At All Costs
by DigiriblePlum
Summary: "You ask, what is our aim? I can answer in one word. It is victory, victory at all costs, victory in spite of all terror, victory, however long and hard the road may be; for without victory, there is no survival." - Winston Churchill. Timothy McGee has been running for ten years. Now it's time to stop. Terrible times are ahead and all there is left to do is fight. Fight, or die.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - Hi! This is my first ever published fanfiction. I've been reading for a while and finally decided to try it out for myself. This is a very AU universe and might seem confusing at first but I promise I'll explain it as I go! It's Tim-centric, obviously, but the whole team will play a major part, despite how the first few chapters might seem.**

**Thanks for taking the time to read, and any constructive criticism is welcome. I'm English, by the way, but as it's an American show I'll try to keep English cultural references out of it. If you spot anything, feel free to point it out.**

* * *

"I thought we had more time."

Timothy did not need to ask why the woman was standing in his apartment.

It was very close to midnight and the NCIS team had just wrapped up a particularly gruelling case. All Timothy wanted to do was take a very hot shower and sleep for about a week, but the moment he saw her all thoughts of rest were driven from his mind.

Harriet Mason wasn't one to make social calls. Standing ramrod straight in the centre of the room, flyaway hair pulled back into a tight ponytail and familiar black-with-red-piping uniform in the pristine condition of official business, the purpose of her visit was all too clear. To ask would be a waste of time and Timothy knew he probably had very little of that left as it was.

So he didn't ask.

He shut the door behind him and tried to tell her, without actually using the words, that he just wasn't ready. Ten years was not enough. They had promised him at least twenty, probably closer to thirty. Ten years, for all that he had given and all that he still would? It wasn't a fair trade. It didn't even come close to being enough.

"The situation has changed." Harriet Mason said in her perfectly calm, even voice. Her dull blue eyes fixed on him, taking in every detail, no doubt evaluating how much work there was to be done. "You are needed immediately. We all are."

He could refuse to go, of course. They could not force him to leave behind this new life he had built up from ruins. He had signed no contract, made no promises, swore no oath. But the thought was a brief, tantalising tickle in the darkest corner of his mind, lasting all of a few seconds. If he was needed, he would go.

"Do I not even get a day or two to sort things out?" He asked, anticipating the answer. "I have a life here."

"So I see." Harriet glanced over at the desk where his typewriter stood. Beside it was a framed photograph of himself, Abby and Jethro the dog. It had been taken the same day Abby had made him take Jethro home. At the time he had been rather irritated, both at Abby for making him adopt a dog that had attacked him, and at himself for letting her. Now, though, the image had pride of place as a fond memory. Jethro was a dear friend and Abby even dearer.

"We can find a home for the dog."

Timothy rolled his eyes, not caring that Harriet could see. She was an old ... friend wasn't the word. He knew her well, though.

"It's not just the dog, Harriet." He said, exhaustion beginning to creep in again. "I have a job, I have friends. I have family."

Harriet frowned. "You tracked down your family?"

"Of course I did." Timothy frowned right back. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You knew you'd be leaving again."

Timothy looked down at his shoes. She was right; he had always known this was, at best, a break. It could not last. He had already hurt his family once, disappearing without a trace and then returning suddenly with no explanation for his four-year absence. Now he must do it all again.

"Like I said. I thought I had more time."

"Time is relative." Harriet said. "I have not seen you in almost a century."

"It's been ten years for me." Timothy looked up now; Harriet's easy dismissal of the mundanity of human emotion was an easy way out of awkward conversation. Of all the soldiers Base Command could have sent to retrieve him, she was the least likely to ask questions about his new life. Right now, any discussion of those he was leaving behind would make this harder than it already was.

"We must leave immediately." Harriet abruptly switched the conversation back to its original point. "However, Base Command has promised every returning soldier two priority phone calls to their friends and family. As respected as you still are, I am sure you will be given first access."

It wasn't ideal, but it was more than Timothy had expected. From the moment he walked through the door to find Harriet on his couch, he had just been hoping for time enough to write a note for the team to find later.

"Should I bring anything with me?" He asked. There was nothing left to do but accept the inevitable. He would never forgive himself if he chose to stay behind and do nothing.

Harriet raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to war, Timothy, not camp."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N - Thanks so much for the reviews, everyone, it really means a lot! I'm glad you're enjoying this. A few hints dropped in here, but I'll start explaining the Universe a bit more next chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

There was a dull thump from the bedroom and Jethro the dog padded in. For the first year after coming to live with Timothy, Jethro had woken at every slight noise and behaved as though something terrible was after them. Now, he was perhaps a little too domesticated. Timothy doubted he'd wake up even during a real break-in.

Some of the dog's protective instincts must have survived, though, as the moment he spotted the strange woman in his home his hackles rose. He sat down on Timothy's feet and stared at Harriet, clearly threatened.

Timothy reached down to lay a reassuring hand on Jethro's head, but the dog didn't relax.

"It's okay, boy," he said quietly, fingers stroking through the rough hair on Jethro's head. "Harriet's alright."

Harriet stared down at the dog with interest. "You could bring him, if you wish." She said. "We have use for animals."

For a second, Timothy considered it. It would be nice to have a friend among the ranks. He had no way of knowing how many - if any - of his old mates has survived these ten years. Peace time, for a Stars soldier, was almost as fraught with danger as war.

But, just like the thought of staying behind, he dismissed it out of hand. He would not drag another innocent into this hell.

Instead of answering, he led Jethro into the kitchen and opened a can of dog food. Jethro's tail began to wag as he forgot all about the unwelcome stranger.

"We don't have time for this." Harriet said with an irritable huff.

"I don't know how long it will be until someone investigates my absence." Though Timothy knew the team would notice this straight away, if they caught a case his failure to show up for work would take a back seat. After all, he was the tech geek. He wasn't Tony.

"Sentiment is not an advantage," Harriet snapped. "You would do well to remember that."

Suddenly furious, Timothy spun around. She had no right to speak to him like some frightened new recruit, like he didn't know exactly what he was getting in to! She was right, yes, and maybe this was his frustration at his abrupt recall talking, but he'd be damned if he let Harriet Mason dictate the terms of his leaving Earth for war.

"Do not speak to me like that, Captain Mason," he said coldly. "And from now on, you will address me as General McGee."

Harriet stared back at him for a moment, before saluting. "Yes, General," she barked. There was a note of triumph in her voice that grated on Timothy's nerves but he finished serving Jethro's food before advancing on the woman.

"I am not your solider anymore, Captain," he said with venom. "I am your superior and you will treat me as such."

Harriet made no answer; she opened the front door and stood back to let him pass. She had always been good at bringing out the leader in those she served with. It was why the most promising young soldiers were assigned to her command. She was ruthless and prone to violence and serving under her made soldiers with the right kind of attitude determined to be better than she was, in every way.

Jethro hadn't touched his food. As Timothy made towards the door, the dog gave an inquisitive whimper. He looked up at his master with eyes that seemed to know Timothy would not be returning, at least not soon. Walking back to the dog with a heavy heart, Timothy ignored Harriet's sigh and hugged Jethro fiercely. A nasty little voice in the back of his mind told him it would be the last time.

"It'll be alright boy," he said gently as Jethro licked his face. "Abby will take care of you."

He could say this, at least, with honesty. Abby cared for Jethro as much as he did.

With a final pat to Jethro's head, Timothy got to his feet and walked through the door. As he and Harriet set off down the corridor, Jethro let out a long, mournful howl from behind the locked door. Timothy didn't pause.

Harriet was right: Sentiment, where he was going, would only get him killed.

* * *

To his surprise, Harriet led Timothy into the alley behind his building. In answer to his raised eyebrow, she pulled out a small but complicated device from her almost invisible backpack. The device looked like a half-size remote control, though the language on the tiny buttons was not English. It wasn't recognisable as any human language, in fact, but Timothy could read it perfectly.

"They gave _you_ a Shifter?" He said incredulously. Last time Harriet had gotten her hands on one of these two-man teleportation devices, the pair of them had ended up fighting - and helping to win - a battle three light years south and fifty years ahead of the one they had been deployed to.

Harriet was built for weapons and tactics, not the incredibly advanced technology Stars - the human branch of the Unified Interstellar Peace Force - had access to in return for their soldiers. Timothy had never really thought it an even trade.

"Olso gave it to me." Harriet said curtly. She didn't like to be reminded of her failings.

"I don't know an Olso."

"Mecranian," Harriet answered the implied question. "Fairly new. Desky died last year."

Timothy's heart dropped. Adam Desky, technician in charge of field equipment, had been a good friend. They had gone through basic training together and even fought side-by-side for a brief period during the early Hotton war. Desky had been one of the few soldiers who saw past Timothy's rank to the breakable human beneath.

"How?" He asked through gritted teeth. He knew this would not be the only old friend whose death he had missed.

Harriet looked up, and her face softened the tiniest bit. She knew, perhaps better than anyone, what it was to lose someone you cared about in action.

"Missile strike on the Luna Orbiter." She said, holding out the Shifter. "Doctor Gorcheva did what she could but he was too badly injured. We lost half the department."

Timothy made no move to grab the teleporter, staring into empty air. How many familiar faces had that attack alone wiped out?

"General Kinoan survived, though." Harriet pushed the device into his hands, snapping him from his thoughts. "He's looking forward to seeing you again. Says he's got some cracking stories and a good bottle of Or'Vayan wine."

Timothy smiled slightly. At least one old friend had survived what the Force laughingly termed 'peace time'. And, though they probably wouldn't get the chance to crack open that bottle, it was a reminder that not every moment of his time in Stars had been terrible.

He nodded at Harriet.

It was time.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Thanks to everyone who reads and/or reviews this! I might not be able to update every day as I've got university to deal with but I'll try to get updates up as often as possible.**

* * *

Timothy stared at himself in the full-length mirror, a slight frown appearing between his eyes. The mirror reflected almost all of the tiny, grey room he stood in.

Stuck to the back of the bathroom door, it showed a single bed, hard and unyielding, and a small wardrobe built into the wall. The bathroom itself wasn't much bigger. The toilet was practically in the shower.

Cramped quarters were to be expected, though, and it wasn't as if he'd be spending much time here. At least he got the room to himself.

Timothy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It had been a decade since he last wore this uniform and it was ... disturbing, how familiar it still felt. The uniform was jet black with thin lines of red piping along the arms and legs and the Stars emblem also in red where the chest pocket should be.

It was made from a very advanced fabric they called Mesh, designed to adapt to the wearer's surroundings; keeping heat in or out as needed. Light, with a hard outer covering, it was supposed to be fireproof, waterproof and bulletproof - though Timothy had seen far too many of his men gunned down to feel particularly safe.

Still, being back in uniform was oddly affirming. Like slipping on a second skin or, more accurately, taking off an uncomfortable disguise.

The four stars of his rank glinted in the soft overhead light. Up here in the silent vacuum of space, Generals fought on the front lines along with their troops and were chosen for their skill in the field. A good General would always put their troops' safety ahead of their own and boardroom meetings were reserved for the kind of big decisions Timothy still had nightmares about.

He had served in the last true interstellar conflict, which had begun only months after his first deployment. A green and frightened newbie barely out of basic training, he had caught the attention of Base Command during the earliest battles. Seeing something promising in him, the shadowy figures who made those decisions had assigned him to Harriet's unit.

The Hotton war began as a small-scale conflict between two unremarkable planets in a solar system 2000 light years from Earth. The Unified Interstellar Peace Force hadn't taken too much notice, at least not until the Hotton forces wiped out Sythia's entire army in one attack and turned their fury on neighbouring systems.

The war had been brutal and for a long time Hotton, their weaponry far more advanced than the Peace Force had thought, were winning. That couldn't last, of course, against the might of an army with soldiers from almost every advanced civilisation in the Milky Way galaxy. Hotton eventually began to fall.

The fighting went on for four Earth years but to Timothy, dragged along with Harriet into the constantly shifting maelstrom of space-time, it was closer to fifty.

Under her unique brand of leadership, he had risen swiftly through the ranks to become a very well respected soldier.

Shortly after making General, he had been called from the front lines and faced with a terrible decision. So terrible, he could not live with himself after giving the order. This was why he left active service and fled back to Earth, seeking a position where he would not be the one making those calls.

Shaking himself out of these memories, Timothy headed for the door. General Kinoan, a very good friend from his early days of service, had left a message to meet on the observation deck. Kinoan was the head of the Diplomatic Branch of UIPF, sent into volatile situations to try to avert all-out war. They had worked together on many occasions and there was no one, in the entire universe, Timothy trusted more.

The observation deck on the Luna Orbiter, Earth's primary defence station, was a massive glass window that offered stunning views of the planet below. Timothy stood, frozen in place, staring down at the blue and white ball hanging in space, deceptively close. He had forgotten how awe-inspiring this sight was.

"Quite something, isn't it?" A deep, warm voice sounded behind him. Timothy grinned widely. He would recognise Kinoan's voice anywhere.

Spinning round, he pulled his friend in for a hearty hug. It was a bit difficult; General Kinoan was over eight feet tall. Completely bald, with dark red skin and three eyes, he came from a planet called Joscial Ax whose people were renowned for their hospitality and charisma. Really, they were the perfect diplomats.

"Kinoan," Timothy said happily. "How have you been?"

"Very well, my friend. I have missed our talks, however." His voice was rich and kind and Timothy felt immediately more relaxed. Kinoan was in charge of pretty much everything on the Luna Orbiter; as a General in the Diplomatic Branch he went into the field less than Timothy and ran the station very effectively.

"So have I. It's been a while."

"Ten years," Kinoan agreed. Apart from his height, skin colour and third eye, he was roughly human in appearance. "A lifetime."

"Captain Mason said a century." Time wasn't fixed, up here, especially during war time when everything was torn apart.

"Captain Mason convinced Olso to give her a Shifter," Kinoan said with a note of disapproval. "She's been running wild ever since. Poor man's terrified of her."

"Most people are," Timothy sighed. "And it only gets worse the better you know her. Seeing her in my apartment wasn't the best way to end a day."

Kinoan nodded gravely. "I apologise for the abrupt intrusion, my friend, but something has come up."

"What's going on, Kinoan?" Timothy asked. They would not have recalled him if the situation was not desperate.

"We are not sure," the alien admitted. "Not for certain. But whatever it is, it's big. Bigger than anything we have seen before. I am not ashamed to admit ... I am afraid."

Timothy swallowed hard and glanced down at his planet. "Earth?"

"Involved. There is something coming, Timothy, something that threatens the future of everything. Every indication is pointing to war, on a massive scale."

Timothy didn't reply. Now he was here, now he was looking out for it, he could feel it too. A shift. The fabric of the universe had ... shifted, somehow. Distorted, as if something huge was pressing against it. Fear rose in the pit of his stomach. What could possibly do _that_? What could possibly cause such disruption that even he could feel it?

And whatever it was ... how could they hope to fight it?

"Come on, Tim." Kinoan laid a large hand on his shoulder, subtly pushing him towards the door. "We've got satellite linked up for you to call home."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - So sorry this took a few days to get written! I thought I had an excellently sneaky way of writing this during boring lectures - writing it in shorthand. This worked well until I came to type it up and realised I had no idea what any of it actually said. As compensation, here's two chapters.**

* * *

The radio room was a tech geek's heaven. Tim had always loved it in here but things seemed to have advanced even further in the last decade. Instead of one massive screen dominating the room, many smaller ones were zooming around of their own accord, flashing lines of text and short video clips at the thirty or so people on computers along the walls. Most were alien but there were a few humans scattered around, looking entirely at ease.

The room's name was a misnomer, really, but it had stuck from the very early days when radio was the only reliable form of communication.

Every so often, a technician would stick out a hand to catch one of the screens. In one corner a tiny orange man with five arms was juggling five screens at once, throwing them from hand to hand rapidly. Facing the door, he was the first to notice Timothy and Kinoan's entrance. He froze, and one of his screens went flying across the room to hit a human woman in the head. It didn't actually hit her, flying straight through her face instead and giving her quite a fright if her scream was anything to go by. She turned to yell at the orange man but the whole room had now noticed Timothy and had fallen silent. Then, as one, the radio technicians jumped to their feet and saluted.

It was a slightly uncomfortable feeling, a whole room standing to attention for a man most of them had only heard about in legends and stories. Kinoan patted Timothy on the shoulder and fell back a step. Inwardly, Timothy cursed his friend's diplomacy. He hadn't done this in ten years and was not at all sure he was worthy of this automatic respect.

The four stars on his shoulders seemed a little heavier as Timothy took a step forward, straightening up and locking his hands behind his back. He nodded once, curtly.

"At ease."

The authority in his voice surprised him. It had been a long time since he had last assumed his mantel of General and he had spent those years playing the inferior role, hiding what he had grown to be.

Those years had also given the many stories surrounding him the chance to be blown out of all proportion. He had seen it happen before - stories become legends and people become heroes in their own absence. Timothy had never believed himself a hero, especially not for the final act which sent him running for Earth, afraid of his own capabilities, while the rest of the Peace Force called him their saviour.

Timothy felt calm now, though, felt confident. "Is the radio connection to Earth set up?"

His question was answered immediately by the enthusiastic technicians, talking all at once, eager to be helpful. Timothy held up a hand and all fell quiet.

"One at a time. The head technician, please." Timothy could see a little smile on Kinoan's face which said he was stepping back into his old shoes with ease.

The tiny orange man stepped forward, "Rank One Technician, Caliien Or'Vanci, sir. It's an honour, sir."

Timothy looked at him expectantly. Back home - on Earth, at NCIS where the team had no doubt realised he was gone because several hours had passed now since he first stumbled home to find the world was ending - he would have asked the question again, the epitome of politeness. He did not need to, up here, because Caliien Or'Vanci was more of a soldier than a technician - they all were - and knew not to expect a repetition.

"The connection is set up, sir, yes. Leah Chesel and Varigandi have been monitoring it."

Caliien pointed to the two desks nearest the far wall, which was painted an almost blinding white and was completely blank. The human woman who had been hit by Caliien's flying screen saluted again, as did the alien next to her. He was human in appearance as well, all except for the skin-tone wings protruding from his back.

"This will be a private call," Timothy said, his voice strong and clear. He felt more comfortable every second. "Everybody else, please leave."

As the technicians obediently began to file out, nodding deferentially as they passed, Timothy approached Leah and Varigandi with Kinoan and Caliien close behind. The two technicians - Rank Two, going by their uniforms - looked nervous. Timothy was half-tempted to smile at them, but stopped himself. He wasn't here to be friendly. Kinoan was the General they came to for reassurance; he was the one they were meant to be a little afraid of.

Leah, focusing back on her computer station, typed in a series of short commands. All of the mini screens, which had been hovering purposelessly without the instructions of their operators, flew towards the blank white wall and joined themselves together seamlessly. It was a rather striking effect and, if Timothy had not been in the company of lower ranking soldiers, he would have been quite excited about it. It was certainly a step up from his last visit.

"Which call are you wanting to make first, sir?" Varigandi had a thick Icasan accent; he was clearly from the Icas tribe, tree-dwellers originating on a planet named Icutior which was relatively close to Earth.

"NCIS." This conversation would be difficult, yes, but less emotionally taxing than a call home. Suppressing all emotions, except that strange kind of anger that came in war, was the only way Timothy knew how to deal with this place.

As the technicians worked to establish the connection - a slightly trickier task than his call home, as this would be fed straight into MTAC - Timothy turned to inspect the room a little closer.

None of it was familiar. He hadn't spent a lot of his time in the radio room, or indeed on the Luna Orbiter, but it was still disconcerting to see it so drastically different. With a horrible sickening feeling in his stomach, Timothy realised that the Field Equipment Storage Room was - or, at least, had been - located right next door. As there was no change to the communal recreation areas, Adam Desky must have been in the FE Storage Room when the missile that killed him hit.

With the amount of high explosive stored there, - 'Field Equipment' for Stars soldiers was very different to that given to Earth soldiers - even a small missile would have done a great deal of damage.

Timothy turned around slowly, looking at the walls very carefully. Somewhere in this room, there would be a tribute to those who died in that attack. There always was. A row of pictures, names and dates of death, perhaps a short tribute left behind so their replacements would never forget. Somehow, it hurt more when a person inside the Orbiter - or onboard one of the two other, smaller, defence platforms orbiting Earth - was killed in a hostile attack. The stations were supposed to be safe zones; they were supposed to be home.

And they were the only things standing between Earth and the attacks of every war-hungry civilisation ever to take exception to the Peace Force's interference.

"Sir, the connection's ready." Caliien said in an official voice that didn't suit him. Timothy turned, the familiar interior of MTAC making his heart speed up. How he dealt with the reactions of the team - Gibbs in particular - would very likely have a great effect on how well he reassumed his role in Stars.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - If the phone call is briefer than you were hoping, rest assured that the team will make a reappearance pretty soon. They are actually integral to the plot, so don't worry! Thanks for all the reviews, it's really encouraging.**

* * *

There was a lot of waiting around, at first.

The personnel who kept the equipment in MTAC ticking over had no idea what to do when faced with an unauthorised outside broadcast. Especially not when the person who suddenly appeared on screen was one of their own agents, calmly demanding they fetch Gibbs, his team and the Director immediately in a tone that brooked no argument.

While waiting for them to get a grip on the situation, Timothy wondered idly about the reactions of his team mates, Gibbs in particular. He had no idea how long he had been gone for; Harriet was not very adept with her dishonestly obtained Shifter and they had appeared on the arrivals deck several hours after they were supposed to. Factoring in the time it took to get new identification papers prepared, change into his uniform, meet Kinoan and set up the call, a whole day might well have passed.

MTAC's door flew open and Gibbs came thundering in.

"McGee, what the hell do you think you're doing?" He barked at the screen. "Where are you?"

Timothy didn't flinch. A day ago he would probably have dissolved into a stuttering mess, trying hard to come up with an explanation that would satisfy his demanding boss. But things were different up here. He was different.

Fear was simply not an option. Everything reminded him of the responsibility suddenly resting on his shoulders. As General of the Peace Force, he was in charge of Earth's protection. If the planet was attacked then Timothy, along with Kinoan, were not only the ones who would fight off that invasion but the ones who would take the fall as well. If war was coming, he did not have time to be intimidated by his old boss.

Technically, he outranked Gibbs now anyway.

"I'm at war, Gunny." Timothy's instincts in this area had always been strong, and still were despite so long without use. Right now, he needed to talk to Gibbs soldier-to-soldier. "Don't think I'll make it in for a while."

"What?"

Behind the boss, Tony, Ziva and the Director had filed in. Timothy wasn't surprised to see Abby, Ducky and Jimmy there as well. They had probably insisted on it once they found out he was the source of the disturbance. All of them were gawping up at him, clearly bewildered. The banks of computers behind him, so different to anything found on Earth, didn't help matters.

"I've been lying to you." Timothy admitted. This was harder than he had expected. Finding the right words wasn't easy. He knew the team cared about him; they were his friends, his family. How could he tell them the person they knew was essentially a fabrication, his personality diluted so far that Kinoan and Harriet would never have recognised him?

How could he tell them he wasn't expecting to come back at all?

"I didn't go to Harvard or Johns Hopkins. Those records are falsified. I joined the army. A branch you won't have heard of, but I can't tell you anything about it. It's classified."

"Come off it, Probie," Tony said with a roll of his eyes that didn't quite look sincere. "How did you set this up?"

"Not joking, Tony." Timothy looked down at the floor for a moment. Like the walls, it was a very bright white. Telling the team anything about Stars was a criminal offence under the laws of more than 3 million different planets and was quite literally worth more than his life. "I've been retired for these past ten years but something's coming. Something big."

Off-screen, Kinoan shot him a warning look. _Mention nothing_, it said. _The less they know the better._

Timothy looked directly at Gibbs again. Soldier-to-soldier. He was the only one who had any chance of understanding why Timothy needed to do this.

"There's a war coming, Gunny, and I've gotta be here to fight it."

Gibbs' look was searching. "Are we in danger, McGee?"

Timothy felt a flood of relief; Gibbs clearly believed what he was saying. There was an intensity to Timothy's voice and eyes that any old soldier would recognise. Gibbs had also borne witness to the times when Timothy's old take-charge personality had bled through: when Sarah was a murder suspect and when he was taken hostage inside the woman's prison. Perhaps, Timothy realised now, his boss had always recognised this potential in him.

"Yes." Timothy ignored Kinoan's look. He could not lie to his friends about this. "But that's why I'm here. To protect you all. Chances are you won't ever hear of this war again but it's still coming. It's my duty to be here."

"Why don't I know about this?" Vance demanded. After taking over from Jenny and assigning McGee to Cyber Crimes, he had done his own thorough background checks on all of Gibbs' team. There was nothing to suggest, even remotely, that Timothy had ever been anything other than a rather intelligent tech geek.

"This goes way higher than you, Vance." There was no time for the usual courtesies or bowing to Vance's position. Timothy didn't know how long they had until all hell broke loose. "I doubt even the SecNav could get his hands on this information."

Timothy knew Vance would check into this as soon as the call ended, but wasn't worried. Vance might be good with computers but Stars technology was centuries ahead of anything the Director had seen before. There was no chance of him discovering something he shouldn't.

"You'll be coming back once this is over, McGee?" As usual, Gibbs didn't phrase that like a question; more an order. "You're a General, I see." Gibbs' eyesight wasn't nearly as bad as he seemed to like people to believe, apparently.

Timothy shrugged, trying to look as if it didn't worry him. He didn't take Gibbs' orders any more. "Don't know. I'm not the kind of solider who sits in a boardroom making calls that will decide whether my men live or die. I'm a fighter. Whatever I have to do to end this thing, I will do it."

"Tim, you're scaring me." Abby spoke up for the first time. A deep frown was etched upon her face, no trace of her usually bubbly, caffeine-fuelled happiness.

"I'm sorry." Timothy tried not to look at her. In front of Caliien, Leah and Varigandi, it was important that he look as strong as possible. He would probably send them out of the room when he made the call to his parents and sister; showing weakness, so soon after returning, might cost him the respect of his troops.

"I'm sorry that I lied to you all but it was unavoidable. Maybe, once this is over, I'll be able to explain a bit better. Just know, I wouldn't have done any of this if it wasn't so important. We don't know what's coming, but it's big and I have to stop it. I have to."

Kinoan cleared his throat. He was entering dangerous territory. But the loyalty he felt to the team was strong, even now, and he hated the looks on their faces. Gibbs, ever the soldier, seemed to be the only one who understood the urgency.

"I have to call my family now." Timothy ran a hand through his hair and immediately cursed himself for this sign of stress. Harriet had drummed it into him time and time again; show no weakness, no matter the situation. It was all flooding back now.

"I'll try to email you if I get a quiet minute, Abby, and tell you what I can."

Another mistake. He would not be able to email the team, or contact them in any way and saying this just raised their hopes and his. Before he had the chance to say or do anything else that would have earned him one of Harriet's special punishments, he waved to Varigandi to terminate the connection.

The abrupt end would haunt him later, he was sure, when in the heat of battle and facing an enemy vastly stronger than himself.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - Once again, sorry for the delay. Had a pretty crappy few days but it's better now. Have two chapters!  
****Oh, I probably should have done this a while ago so - Disclaimer - I own nothing from the NCIS universe.  
The science in these chapters won't be right. I've tried to keep it as accurate as I can, because I like that kind of stuff, but this is Science Fiction and sometimes facts go out the window because otherwise the plot just wouldn't work.**

* * *

"The next call please, Or'Vanci."

Timothy wasted no time and, at his words, the junior technicians immediately began working. He would just have to hope, for there was no way of telling, that Sarah would be home with his Mom and Dad.

"Connection is establishing." Leah said quietly. "This should only take a minute or two."

Behind them, the door slid open. Timothy turned around, irritated at the interruption, to order the new arrival to leave but Harriet did not give him a chance. She held a gun in her hand; a sleek, white metal weapon that fired high-energy laser beams. These had been standard issue when Timothy last served and he was relieved to find they were still in use. No matter how much he loved the technology up here, most of it was beyond him. He didn't have time to learn how to use a complicated new weapon.

"It's here." Harriet panted. He had never seen her like this before; never see her eyes so wide, her breathing so fast or her composure so far gone. The hand on her weapon was, however, still steady as a rock. Harriet was, always, the consummate fighter. Sometimes Timothy doubted whether there was anything human left in her.

"The Aricon Radars are picking up incoming ships. Thousands of them. They just appeared out of nowhere."

Harriet was afraid. The realisation hit him with a terrible jolt.

"How long do we have?" Timothy heard his own voice asking, clear and calm, no trace of the fear he could feel bubbling inside his own stomach. Instinct was taking over now.

"At this speed, hours. I've never seen anything like it before."

"That should be impossible." Kinoan's voice was enough to bring Timothy fully back to the present. Though the alien was a fantastic General, he was a diplomat at heart and had no stomach for battle. He dealt in words rather than weapons. This was Timothy's command now.

"Control room."

Leaving the three technicians behind, Timothy, Harriet and Kinoan tore through the corridors of the Luna Orbiter, heading for the massive central room from which everything was run. More than 100 units reported in here every day, their calls diverted from the radio room if a pressing matter came up.

The door slid open silently as the three, harried and in great alarm, skidded up to the circular Control Room. Inside, there was the steady buzz of the organised kind of chaos of almost 200 people talking, walking and working at once. Every head turned to the door as Timothy, Kinoan and Harriet burst in. Eyes widened at the sight of Timothy but in here, unlike in the radio room, no one had time to stop and stare. Those nearest snapped off a sharp salute but most of the workers returned to their duties immediately.

Control was the most heavily staffed area of the entire station and was always thrumming with activity, always loud and always moving. To an outsider, it probably looked like complete chaos but the system - or, at least, the workers in it - was highly efficient.

Today, though, there was a definite undercurrent of tension running through the staff. No formal announcement of the imminent attack - for that was what everyone assumed this would be - had been made, so these people were the only ones onboard who knew what was happening. There was fear on many a face, though no outward sign of panic.

When Timothy had first visited this room, many, many years ago, he had expected to see it staffed mostly by humans. The Luna Orbiter was, after all, the Earth's primary defence system and it was Peace Force tradition to have the native species of a planet in charge of their own defences. He soon learnt, however, why Earth was one of the few exceptions.

Humans were, almost exclusively, the warriors of the Peace Force. While every other species contributed technology, weapons, medical equipment and services or transport, all Earth had to offer was its soldiers. They were regarded, throughout the Force, as the fiercest and most determined fighters. It was said that if you wanted to stamp out a rebellion before it had even begun, you sent in a Stars unit and all your troubles would disappear.

This had always bothered Timothy but, right now, he couldn't worry about his species' dangerous reputation. There were ten huge screens hovering in mid air at key locations throughout the room. On a normal day, they would all be displaying different information from across the galaxy. Today, every screen was identical: radar output from the Aricon debris belt at the edge of the Milky Way, which showed a vast number of ships heading inwards at an alarming rate.

"Generals, Captain," a two-headed humanoid with shockingly blue hair ran up to them. "The ships are gaining speed. If they keep going at this rate, they'll reach this system in five hours."

"Go to Emergency State One." Timothy barked at the man, who wore the uniform of a Commander. He was obviously in charge of this room and Timothy thought he recognised him, vaguely. "Sound the alarm. Recall all non-necessary units to every station in the galaxy."

"Yes, sir." The two-headed man didn't need to relay this order to his staff; those nearest passed the message on and, within seconds, the whole room was focused on their tasks. The room seemed calmer now they had something practical to do.

"I want every unit not currently in combat kitted out and ready to go in no more than three hours, understand?"

"Yes, sir." The two-headed man hurried away and, moments later, a loud claxon sounded in every room. This was followed by the Commander's short, sharp message.

"This station is now in Emergency State One. Every non-essential soldier is to report to their unit Captain immediately and prepare for deployment."

Timothy wheeled round to face Kinoan and Harriet.

"I've just sent word to my force," Kinoan said, indicating another Joscial Ax native, a woman, hurrying away. "The Diplomats are to gather in conference. Perhaps our new visitors will want to talk."

Harriet rolled her eyes; it was well known that she had little time for the Diplomatic Force.

Before she could speak, Timothy addressed her.

"Harriet, get two Hoppers ready. We'll go out and meet them half-way."

"Don't be ridiculous," Kinoan interrupted. "There are more than a hundred thousand ships in that fleet alone! The Hoppers have no weaponry and only light shielding."

"We're not going to fight them, General." Timothy replied. Harriet had already gone, heading towards the Hangars at a run. "We'll be cloaked. I want to see what we're dealing with in person, not just on radar."

Kinoan still seemed unsure, but the look on Timothy's face was one he recognised from years past. The old General nodded and didn't bother to say any of the things he wanted to. Timothy's eyes were blazing and everything about him screamed he was preparing for a fight.

There was nothing left in Timothy's head except war; tactics and half-formed plans, and the blind, brutal determination to win at any cost.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer**** - I do not own anything to do with NCIS. Perhaps some language warnings as well, but as there's no swearing on the show there won't be very much here.**

* * *

"They've stopped." Kinoan's voice was clear and loud through the intercom system inside Timothy's helmet. He paused in readying the Hopper for take-off. A glance through the window to Harriet in the Hopper to his right told him she had got the message too.

"Where?" There was no time to try to figure out what the unidentified ships were planning. If they could be stopped now, all-out war might be avoided. Timothy wasn't so naive as to think the sudden and impossible arrival of tens of thousands of ships on the edge of _his_ galaxy wasn't a sign of impending battle.

The sickly feeling he had noticed upon his arrival on the Orbiter was stronger now. There was a distortion in the fabric of the universe, a dangerous and ominous bulge, and it had become steadily more pronounced since the radars began to pick up the ships. Timothy didn't need to talk to Harriet to know she could feel it too. They had both travelled in time, albeit mostly unintentionally, and were now very sensitive to these fluctuations.

"Just by the Zsais system." Zsais was a large but fairly new solar system. A binary system with 27 orbiting planets, ten of which were inhabited, Zsais was monitored but not contacted. Its civilisations were in their early stages and were therefore protected under Galactic Law. This protection would remain until one of the emerging life forms developed technology advanced enough to contact other planets.

Or until some power hungry race ignored Peace Force directives and invaded, intent on this easy prey.

"Change course for Zsais." Barked Timothy. "Keep us up to date, Kinoan."

"Of course. Just remember, do not attempt to engage these ships."

Timothy didn't answer. The Hoppers were the most advanced ships the Peace Force had; able to travel almost anywhere in the universe instantaneously. This required immense power, so the ships were equipped with only the most basic shielding systems and no weaponry. They also had the ability to cloak themselves so they would not appear on any radar systems. Unfortunately, this also meant their own radars were useless.

"Powering up." Timothy ignited the engine.

"Powering up." The Hangar reverberated to the sound of two Hopper engines screaming to be released.

"Retracting wheels."

"Retracting wheels."

The Hopper's wheels lifted and the powerful engine forced the machine up into the air. It generated a huge amount of thrust and the first few seconds were always tricky. Hoppers were generally easy to pilot but take-off took a strong hand.

Shooting straight through the hangar bay door so fast it was barely a blur, Timothy might have laughed if the situation hadn't been so dire. Flying a one-man space ship felt like nothing else and Hoppers were the best of them all. The ship responded to the lightest touch and always seemed to know exactly what its pilot wanted. All around him, the tiny cockpit vibrated with the power of the engine but, now they were out in deep space, there was no sound to be heard. Sound doesn't travel in a vacuum, so the ships moved silently towards their target.

The intercom crackled into life.

"Ready to jump?" Harriet's voice asked.

"Ready. Three ... two ... one."

The sensation of jumping several thousand light years in an instant was one Timothy had never found words to describe. He had once heard a younger pilot say it was like nothing so much as having your brain sucked into the universe's longest and most powerful vacuum. It wasn't a pleasant experience, but Timothy had known worse ways of travelling.

"Cloaking systems engaged."

"Engaged."

For a moment Timothy's thoughts, disorientated by the jump, revolved around Harriet and how well she was responding to his orders. As something of a loose cannon, Harriet was renowned for doing whatever she thought was best and damn the consequences.

Then, the shock of what he was seeing sank in and there was no room in Timothy's head for anything except the terrible, sickly feeling flooding his body.

In front of him, stretching out as far as the eye could see, was a massive formation of battleships, clearly armed to the teeth and each one almost the size of the Orbiter itself.

Dense, flickering blue shielding surrounded each one individually. He could just about make out, on the ship closest, rows of lights running across its length. A claw-like contraption stuck out of the front of each ship; a cold, dark metal with lines of red lasers criss-crossing between the poles.

These ships were definitely the source of the distortion Timothy had been sensing.

"Christ." Harriet's voice was low, breathless, and very definitely scared. Timothy had never seen anything like this before and nor, it seemed, had she. That alone would have been enough to raise alarm; there was not a war machine in existence that Harriet didn't know.

"The ships seem to have surrounded Zsais." Kinoan's voice seemed faint. Timothy knew this was in his head, as the radio signal was as strong as ever. His senses were almost overloaded just looking at these things.

"I know." He replied, slightly surprised at how level his voice sounded when, inside, he was on the verge of freaking out. The distortion in the fabric of the universe was nauseating.

The ships were all facing the blithely ignorant young system, a great ring of metal, a threatening and terrible sight. Though Timothy couldn't see where the row ended, he didn't need Kinoan's input to know they had formed a barrier around Zsais.

"What the hell are they doing?"

Timothy didn't get a chance to answer; the ships did it for them. The blue shields flickered once, died and the red laser beams shooting around inside the claws began to build in intensity until they were almost blinding.

"What the hell is ..."

Harriet's question died on her lips. In unison the red lasers from every last ship shot outward, into the Zsais solar system, so many and so fast that the whole place turned red and Timothy and Harriet could not see a thing. They both threw up their hands to protect their eyes from the glare, unable to move or think.

It lasted all of ten seconds. When the laser fire died down, Timothy and Harriet lowered their hands and stared. The ships had also disappeared, vanishing without a trace, and Timothy was left staring blankly into an empty void.

It took a few moments for his brain to comprehend what it was seeing. When it finally registered, Timothy swore loudly and had to fight down the urge to throw up.

Where the Zsais solar system had once burned with new life, there was nothing. Not a trace of its twin suns or its 27 planets, nothing left of the ten new species or any of the flotsam and jetsam of a young system.

Zsais had been utterly obliterated.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N - **Sorry for the long wait, but exams and general Uni chaos kinda took over. It's officially Christmas now, though, so hopefully I can update more often. Thanks so much for all the reviews, I'm really glad people are enjoying this!

Disclaimer - I don't own anything to do with NCIS.

* * *

Timothy was used to atrocities in war. He had seen them, participated in them, even ordered them because when everything around you is in chaos sometimes terrible things must be done. This, however, was unlike anything he had imagined possible.

Returning to the Orbiter, returning to the disbelieving faces who had watched Zsais disappear abruptly from the radar screens, Timothy had no idea what to tell them. What he had just seen was hard to verbalise.

"The solar system Zsais has been destroyed." Timothy addressed the room, not really sure how he was keeping the shock and, now, the fury out of his voice. "Are the radars still picking up the ships?"

Kinoan answered. His kindly red face seemed to have aged several years in the last ten minutes. "No. They vanished straight after Zsais was ..." Kinoan trailed off. The truth seemed too far-fetched, too terrible to put into words.

"Obliterated." Harriet had been unusually quiet since their return, but her voice was as even as ever when she finally spoke up. It was like her to be the one who found the words for this. Timothy could almost see the cogs whirring behind her dark eyes, searching for answers; what force, in the whole of the known universe, was powerful and ruthless enough to do _this_?

The Control Room's Commander stepped forward. He, like his staff, wore a look of horror on both his faces. The fear in the room was more palpable now they had witnessed what the unknown ships were capable of, but it was still a subdued undercurrent. Every person here had seen their share of combat and bore it stoically.

"Sir, what are we facing here?" The left-hand head asked. It seemed to be the more talkative of the Commander's two personalities. The blue hair told Timothy he was from the planet Nicasio, two hundred light years away, which Timothy knew would one day have a very large human colony. Nicasians lived almost exclusively below ground and did not mind sharing their planet with other species.

"I don't know, Commander." Timothy told him gravely. This was no time for lies or for sugar-coating what couldn't be denied. "But, whoever they are, this is war. Contact the radio room and have them summon the Generals immediately. The ships will return."

Without waiting for a response, Timothy turned and whisked from the room with Kinoan close on his heels. Harriet didn't seem to notice their exit; she had called up the full range of radar output screens and was scanning them intently for anything that shouldn't be there.

"You cannot just declare war, Timothy," Kinoan said reproachfully. "There are procedures to follow, things to be-"

"You know as well as I do what the outcome of the Generals' meeting will be." Timothy interrupted, quickening his strides. If he hoped to outpace the alien, he would be disappointed; Kinoan was old but still fit and at least three feet taller than his human counterpart.

"Our galaxy has been attacked in the most terrible way. Our only option is to respond in kind."

"Stop." Kinoan put a firm hand on Timothy's shoulder, bringing him to a halt. They had found their way, once again, to the observation deck. It had always been, from the day they met, the place Timothy and Kinoan went to talk. Looking down at his home from such a distance always made Timothy's thoughts clearer.

Timothy had just been made Captain when they first met, slightly afraid of the responsibility and the expectation now on his very young shoulders. Kinoan had been a General for a long time - so long that nobody could remember a Unified Interstellar Peace Force which didn't have him at the helm - but he had taken Timothy under his wing and given him the confidence and advice he needed.

They disagreed often but there was no one, on Earth or off, he trusted and respected more. Still, though, Kinoan was a man of peace and Timothy was, Timothy _had_ to be, of war.

"You need to calm down." Kinoan told him firmly.

"I am calm."

"I can see straight through you, my friend," Kinoan said without breaking their contact. "You are angry and afraid and it is clouding your mind."

"Of course I am! I just saw an entire solar system destroyed before my eyes and could do nothing about it." Timothy stared out at his planet spinning beneath them, seven billion people rushing around their ordinary, amazing lives, completely unaware of the danger they were now facing.

Every Peace Force soldier swore an oath, first to the protection of their home planet and then to the Force itself. With such vast and dizzying distances to bridge in their, often futile, attempts to bring calm to the galaxy, a sense of home was vital.

_All I am I vow to thee_. The archaic opening line of that promise was loud in Timothy's head right now. A pledge he had made on his first day as a solider, which had suddenly become so much more important than ever before.

The protection of home was everything and, at this moment, home seemed incredibly vulnerable. Three satellite defence stations were nothing compared to what he had just witnessed.

"You are of no use to your planet if your head is filled with those fatalistic thoughts, Timothy."

Kinoan's words startled him slightly. He had often wondered if the man possessed some psychic abilities, for he always seemed to know what Timothy was thinking and feeling.

"I understand you are worried for your home. I am, for mine. But Earth, as Joscial Ax, is just one planet." The tone of Kinoan's voice was familiar to Timothy from the hours he had spent, sitting beside the alien in stuffy conference rooms, listening to him diffuse even the most tense of situations. Kinoan's reputation was deserved; he could talk even the most blood thirsty militants into peace and leave them thinking it had been their desire from the start.

He continued. "You were made General because of your ability to make the decisions, however difficult, that _need_ to be made. I have watched you grow into your role and I have seen that you are capable of great things when you do not let your emotions rule."

"Great things, Kinoan?" Timothy's laugh was entirely without mirth. "I would not call the things I have done, _great_."

"And that is why they are. Emotions may need to be put aside but to discard them completely will ultimately be your downfall. You are a great General because you recognise the things you have done as terrible but necessary."

"I'm not so sure I can do this."

"Old friend, there is no doubt in my mind that you can lead us through these difficulties. Have you ever known me to be wrong?"

At this, Timothy managed a small smile and looked up. "No, you've never been wrong."

"I don't plan on making a start now." Kinoan surveyed Timothy with ancient, deep red eyes and Timothy had to wonder just how old he really was. All of history played behind the concerned affection.

"The Generals will take a few hours to gather," the alien went on, guiding Timothy towards one of the many off-shooting corridors. "And you have been awake for far too long. Get some sleep. I have a feeling you are going to need it."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N - So, apparently "Christmas Break" means "free labour" to my family. Updates should be better from now on though. Thanks for the reviews!**

**I do not own anything to do with NCIS.**

* * *

Timothy couldn't remember the last time he'd slept. It had probably been about 24 hours since he arrived home to find Harriet in his apartment, to find that the world might be ending. That sounded melodramatic but it was a distinct possibility, and one that Timothy couldn't help but take more seriously now he'd seen what they were up against.

Harriet's inability to use the Shifter properly had lost them several hours, so it had only been about four hours since Timothy's call to NCIS. He hadn't had time, in the end, to call home. That was really bothering him now, because he knew he wouldn't have the chance to get in touch with his family for a long time. The radio room would be fully occupied in alerting the Peace Force units spread across the galaxy and personal calls were not a priority.

He'd done this once before, disappearing for four years with no word, and the relationship between him and his parents and sister had never fully recovered.

As a teenager, Timothy had been a very skilled hacker. Young and reckless, his attempts to impress an online hacking group with his abilities got him noticed. However, while most of that group were tracked down and arrested, Timothy was allowed to slip through the net.

Somebody kept an eye on him, though. Nobody was entirely sure whose idea Stars had been, nor who called the shots from Earth, but somebody decided Timothy was what the force needed.

Along with seven other young computer experts, he had been literally kidnapped from his parents' home one night and taken to a military base. Here, the eight were read into the Stars programme and promptly sent up to the smallest of the three orbiting defence stations, to work in the radio room.

They hadn't been given much of a choice, really; all of them had been involved in something less-than-legal, though never inherently malicious, and the general impression was that agreeing to join the Force was the only way to avoid punishment.

However, it became apparent fairly quickly that the technology in use was beyond even this specialist group. It was so far ahead of anything found on Earth that the humans found it very difficult to adapt to the entirely new systems. Only three of the eight felt they would be able to learn, and Timothy wasn't one of them.

Timothy and the other four were given over to the armed Peace Force and sent straight into basic training. Four months later, war broke out.

All of this felt like a lifetime ago. Of those eight humans - all aged between 18 and 23 - Timothy was the only one left alive. The four who joined him in basic training had been killed during the Hotton war and Timothy had recognised the faces of the three technicians in the tribute to the missile strike victims.

It was a horribly lonely thought.

* * *

Timothy arrived, late and cross, to the General's meeting, trailed by a triumphant Harriet and an irate Doctor Gorcheva.

Doctor Gorcheva was a Bulgarian woman in her mid fifties, her hair prematurely grey and always pulled back into a tight bun, the head of the Stars medical staff. She was a formidable woman with clear ideas on how her department should be run, who never backed down to anyone and who was used to being listened to.

Though not technically a General, nobody disputed her right to be included in these meetings. Doctor Jenia Gorcheva was a well-respected and well-liked member of the Force and Timothy owed his life to her several times over.

The only person Gorcheva didn't get on with was Harriet. A deep and abiding hatred ran between the two women and any meeting was likely to end in a fierce argument. Unfortunately for Timothy, he had accidentally stumbled into one of these on his way to the conference room and been dragged in.

The dispute was quickly settled. Gorcheva didn't think Harriet should attend the meeting. Technically she was correct, as Harriet was only a Captain, but Harriet was about as likely to agree to exclusion as Gorcheva herself and her expertise usually proved invaluable. Settling these rows was more Kinoan's area than Timothy's, however, so tempers were running high when they finally arrived in the conference room.

"Generals." Timothy didn't wait for silence or for introductions. Everybody in this room knew exactly who he was. There were a few new faces among the ranks, and a few familiar ones missing, but there would be a chance for introductions and explanations later. They had already wasted enough time.

"We are at war."

Silence greeted his words. Around the long table sat forty individuals in uniform, some immaculate and some clearly fresh from a conflict zone, all bearing the four stars of their rank. Twenty wore black, the uniform of a military General, and twenty wore green to signify their position as Diplomats.

Though the Milky Way galaxy alone holds billions of solar systems, only a limited number were members of the Peace Force. Of these, the twenty biggest defence stations had sent their leaders while the others watched the conference via video link. Each station had both a military and diplomatic General of equal importance, responsible for all the big decisions.

"War, McGee?" A wizened old woman said from his right. She wore a stained and torn black uniform. Timothy recognised her at once; this was Vivia Leconiger of the planet Pastiar. She looked very old indeed but Timothy knew she was only a couple of years older than he was. Pastiarans always appeared ancient but were, in fact, very agile.

"Surely you are getting ahead of yourself." Vivia said sceptically.

An unfamiliar General joined in. "What actually happened to Zsais, General McGee? We have not been told."

"Several thousand unidentified ships surrounded the solar system known as Zsais." Timothy explained. "Captain Mason and I were nearby and witnessed what happened next. Using technology we have never encountered before, the ships destroyed Zsais completely. There are no survivors and nothing left of the system."

It was hard to convey just how dreadful the scene had been, to people who had not witnessed it even on radar screens. Nevertheless, many of the faces registered disgust and horror. Everybody knew Zsais was - had been - a developing solar system. To target a place, so full of life yet so defenceless, was the worst of all war crimes.

"This is clearly an atrocity, but does it necessitate war?" Another voice called out. This was General Ivoon Juviaria of Kallanna, a diplomat and a good friend of Kinoan's.

"I believe so." Kinoan took this question. A diplomat advising war would always carry more urgency than a military General advising the same. "We have known this was coming for a long while. These ships will return."

"This is it, then?" From the far end of the table, a second unfamiliar General asked in a quiet voice. "The war we have all been waiting for?"

"We thought this of the Hotton War, Kinoan, remember." Vivia put in.

"That was complacence on our part." Snapped Timothy. "If we had looked deeper, we could not have avoided the truth. Believe me, all of you, we are facing our darkest hour and we must act immediately."

It was true that this war had been a long time coming. Many people stopped believing it was coming at all, after Hotton was defeated. They had been caught off guard.

"Our only hope is to strike hard." Harriet interrupted, ignoring Gorcheva's blistering glare. "To show them we are no so weak-"

"Emergency. Emergency." The intercom system blared into life with a sudden, ear-splitting, alarm. "Incoming missiles detected. Repeat. Incoming missiles detected. Impact imminent."

There was no time to respond. The message had barely finished its second repetition when the whole station shuddered horribly as a deafening smash reverberated. Thrown from his feet, Timothy hit the floor hard. Many others had also collapsed from the force of the impact; flailing alien limbs made it very difficult to get back up.

Everything was noise and chaos as a second terrible explosion sounded. From his position on the floor, Timothy felt the entire station shift slightly. An awful wave of panic rose in his throat; if one more missile hit the Orbiter, the station could be knocked completely out of its orbit and sent plummeting towards Earth. So far it seemed as though the shields were protecting the station from the actual blasts but shields would not help at all if the Orbiter crashed into the planet.

The station was the size of America, a huge and cumbersome beast travelling very slowly due to its weight. If it fell to Earth, the planet would be devastated.

"Emergency, emergency. Incoming missiles detected. Repeat. Incoming missiles detected. Impact imminent."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N - Thanks to everyone who reviews and reads this! A little surprise for you in this chapter.**

**I do not own anything to do with NCIS.**

* * *

Hands grabbed him and hauled him to his feet as the whole station quaked around them. Most of the Generals were still on the floor but Timothy didn't wait around to make sure they were alright. Followed by Harriet and Kinoan, he lurched through the door and headed towards the control room as fast as he could.

The corridors were eerily silent, though there were people everywhere. Humans and aliens clung to the walls and to each other as the station shuddered, fighting their way towards their command posts. Nobody spoke; the only noise was the whine of the engines fighting to keep the Orbiter steady.

The Orbiter had been hit before, hit often during the Hotton war, causing serious damage but never before had Timothy experienced a strike like this. The station had never _shifted_ like this, never come close to being pulled from its orbit. That was supposed to be impossible.

In direct contrast to the corridors, the control room was even louder and more chaotic than before. Several people here had been injured but all except the most severely hurt were still working: dashing between consoles, shouting requests and orders across the room or into intercom speakers and calling up screen after screen of data readings from the damaged areas of the station.

They were barely in the door when the two-headed Commander skidded up and yelled across the tumult.

"Another missile incoming, impact in three minutes. We can't take another direct hit!"

"Kinoan, get the Generals out of here." Timothy directed. "Emergency teleport to the nearest safe zone. Don't take no for an answer!"

It would goad the Generals to be sent away from the heart of the crisis but it was necessary. If the Orbiter went down with the forty most powerful leaders of the Unified Interstellar Peace Force onboard, this war would be lost before it even began.

Timothy didn't see Kinoan's nod; he had already grabbed Harriet's arm and pulled her from the control room into a nearby elevator. She didn't need to ask where they were going.

The station was heavily defended but this attack had been so sudden and so unexpected that they hadn't had the chance to respond. The very lowest level was equipped to deal with a threat like this – at least, it was supposed to be.

"If the station goes down-," Harriet said darkly.

"I know." Timothy interrupted. "We won't let it."

The wait in the elevator was interminable but, finally, the doors opened onto the lowest level. They had emerged in the center of a massive circular space, stretching out for miles in every direction and bordered by hundreds of small cubicles. Inside each was a high-backed chair with joystick controls on both arms, facing out into deep space. Each cubicle controlled a high-power laser cannon designed to take out hostile missiles.

Like the control room, this place was abuzz with activity. Hundreds of frantic soldiers in military uniform hurried to and from the cubicles, shouting questions at a stoic man stood just meters from Timothy and Harriet.

"Captain Cleve!" Timothy called. "Status update."

The Captain swung around. He was human, about forty and heavily built, wearing a uniform identical to Harriet's. There was a thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, the only outward sign of the stress he was under. Captain Cleve was in charge of the Missile Defence Unit, the station's main protection against this kind of attack.

"The first one caught us off guard." He grunted without waiting for introductions; he knew very well who he was speaking to. "Got off a few rounds at the second one, but it didn't make a damn bit of difference. Barely knocked the thing off course."

"We've got another incoming in two minutes." Timothy said, and the Captain swore under his breath.

"Got a plan, General? 'Cos we got nothing." It clearly took a lot for Cleve to admit this. He didn't look Timothy in the eye. Instead, he fixed Harriet with an intent stare and Timothy also turned to look at the woman. He was more used to close combat, fighting on the ground against an enemy you could see and hear and whose weaknesses were observable.

"This is your area of expertise, Captain Mason." Timothy said quietly. "Any ideas?"

"Get everyone into their posts, Captain." Harriet ordered, glancing at her watch. "As soon as that next missile comes on radar, I want every single station to fire on it at once. Give it all we've got. McGee, you take point."

There was no time to question; Timothy dived into the nearest cubicle and fired up the laser blaster. Harriet's voice, ever calm, sounded on the intercom behind his head to relay her instructions.

Seconds later, a small flashing point appeared on the radar screen.

"Don't stop until that missile has been destroyed." Harriet's orders were almost drowned out by the phenomenal noise of over 500 laser cannons powering up. The whole cubicle vibrated as Timothy swung the barrel around to line up with the incoming missile.

"Fire!"

The next twenty seconds were a blur of noise and blinding white-blue light as every cannon within range emptied everything the station had to give at the projectile. Timothy felt cold dread in the pit of his stomach. The vibration was so severe he couldn't see the radar screen a meter or so from his face. He had no way of knowing whether Harriet's plan was working.

He didn't want to think about what would happen if it didn't.

Then, as suddenly as it had started, the chaos stopped. There was a moment of dead silence. Timothy felt a surge of relief so strong it made him light-headed for a moment. There was no flashing point on the radar screen.

The missile had been destroyed.

The cubicles around him erupted with cheers and yells of triumph as hundreds of ecstatic bodies poured out, slightly green in the face, all riding an adrenaline high. For a brief second, Timothy wanted to join in their celebrations. The unknown enemy wasn't so terrifying now they had won even this small victory.

But General McGee pulled himself from the control chair and walked, back straight and head high, through the crowd. Many saluted but none attempted to include him in their triumphant congratulations.

"Good call." He said to Harriet in a low voice. "That was too close."

"I'll make sure the cannons are fully charged." Captain Cleve said briskly, a slight smile on his face as he watched his soldiers, who were quieter now but no less relieved. "They might fire again."

"I'll stay here. I want to study the readings, see if there isn't another way too-"

Harriet stopped talking abruptly, staring through the glass with alarm on her face. Timothy swung round just as one anonymous soldier groaned, even as she made her way back into her cubicle, "What now?"

It was a feeling Timothy sympathized with. The cold dread was back now, maybe even stronger than before, as he realized what he was seeing.

A beam of electric blue light, several meters wide, cut a brilliant path through the dark outside. Timothy couldn't tell where it originated from but its destination was all too clear. It carved straight through Earth's atmosphere to impact against the surface.

This time, Timothy didn't have to grab Harriet's arm on the way to the elevator. She called over her shoulder as the doors slid shut.

"Re-charge the cannons. If another missile comes, do the same thing again."

Kinoan was waiting by the control room doors, so close that Timothy almost collided with him.

"We don't know yet. The beam doesn't seem to be destructive but we don't know what it-"

"It's a teleportation beam!" A voice called out above the general clamor - the two-headed Commander whose name Timothy still didn't know. "Targeted somewhere in America, can't be sure where yet."

"What are they after?" Timothy demanded.

"Don't know, but we can interrupt the signal." The Commander said. "We can't stop it but we can divert it. Bring whatever it is they're after onboard the Orbiter."

"Is that safe?" Kinoan asked.

"Doesn't matter." Timothy said, striding over to the Commander's console. "We can't let them get their hands on it, whatever it is."

It bothered Timothy that he still didn't know who "they" were.

"Get to it." The Commander barked at his staff, who immediately began working. They spoke so quickly to each other that Timothy could hardly work out what they were saying.

"Done it!" One alien, who looked something like an upright orange cat, cried out triumphantly. "Teleportation beam diverting to the Luna Orbiter control room."

The light was blinding; Timothy threw an arm across his eyes to block out the glare. Even then, spots danced in his vision after the light died down. It took several moments before he figured out what he was seeing.

In a heap on the floor, a tangle of limbs and frightened, bewildered eyes, were six people.

Six people Timothy recognized.

Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, Ducky, Palmer and Abby.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N - in answer to a question, most of the sci-fi stuff is just stuff I've made up but I am a massive fan of Doctor Who so it's probably influenced by that quite a bit! Thanks for all the reviews everyone, it means a lot.**

**This will probably be the last two chapters before Boxing Day at least, so everyone have a great Christmas or holiday and all the best for the New Year!**

* * *

For a long moment Timothy stared at his team, sprawled on the floor of the cavernous control room, his mind refusing to accept what he was seeing. He had kept his two worlds so completely separate for such a long time that this sudden collision was jarring, to say the least.

This was not supposed to happen. A recurring theme of Timothy's nightmares was an Earth invaded by an impossibly advanced alien race and those he loved forced to fight and die in a battle they could not hope to win. You started fighting for Stars out of duty to your home planet; you stayed fighting because the thought of your friends and family suffering as other besieged planets suffered was unbearable.

This team had become Timothy's family and he had always been determined to keep them as far away from this war as was possible. They were used to danger, yes - Gibbs and Ziva were soldiers themselves, Tony wasn't a stranger to risks and even Ducky had seen war up close - but this was not their battle to fight. This was not their cause to die for.

Timothy had no illusions that he would come home from this. And that was okay, as long as his family were safe, as long as home remained protected.

But now they were here, in the control room of the Luna Orbiter, surrounded by alien life forms and technology clearly far in advance of anything found on Earth. Suddenly thrown right into the middle of the most dangerous war the universe had ever known.

The whole room seemed to be almost as surprised as Timothy was. It was clear, from the confusion on the many faces, they had been expecting weaponry at the very least. These six perfectly ordinary humans were something of a let-down.

As the team struggled to their feet, staring around in shock, only Kinoan and Harriet had realised they were anything more than normal humans. Harriet was looking back and forth between Timothy and the team, as if she couldn't quite comprehend what was happening and was waiting for somebody to say things weren't as they seemed.

Kinoan put a steady hand on Timothy's arm, obviously recognising the team from Timothy's video call a lifetime ago.

"Tim?" Abby was the first to notice him. The others turned slowly at the sound of a familiar name, eyes lingering on the assorted aliens still clustered around. Timothy couldn't blame them; he had been much the same on his first day up here.

He felt irrationally annoyed. The whole room had turned their eyes on him now, glancing at each other from time to time with raised eyebrows (or whatever was the equivalent). Addressing him by any form of his first name in front of the support staff was a major slight and it rankled, even though Timothy knew Abby could not possibly be aware of this.

"McGee?" Gibbs' usual growl was only slightly shaky. "What's going on?"

Everyone in the control room looked at him, expecting him to take charge of the situation with his usual authority. Even Kinoan didn't have anything to say.

Timothy cleared his throat.

"I want everyone working on tracing that teleportation beam. Tell me where it came from. Now."

There was only the slightest of hesitations before the staff turned back to their consoles and the steady hum of talk started up again, perhaps a bit quieter than before. Timothy walked slowly over to where the team stood, closer together than they ordinarily would. He felt almost as if he were dreaming.

"Come with me."

Thrown abruptly so far out of their world, the team could do nothing but follow after Timothy as he headed through the door and back into the elevator, signaling for Kinoan and Harriet to come too.

The elevator was easily big enough for all of them but the atmosphere was decidedly tense. Timothy didn't dare look at his team, for he had no idea what he would say to them if he did. The team themselves were staring at Kinoan - some, like Palmer, blatantly and some in a less obvious manner. Kinoan didn't seem to mind.

Timothy was suddenly very grateful for the elderly General, standing strong and silent and obviously alien at the front of the group, his height, red skin and third eye distracting the team long enough for Timothy to begin to formulate his thoughts.

His next step was fairly simply, really, now he had a moment to think about it - get his team off the Orbiter and back down to Earth, where they would be safe.

The elevator doors opened and Kinoan led the way through the winding corridors, the whole group still in silence. Timothy didn't have to ask where they were going. He knew this route so well he could walk it blindfolded. Kinoan's office (which was more like a luxury hotel suite as it was used for formal meetings with visiting officials) had been a home-from-home for Timothy for many years now.

Small viewing windows placed every few meters along the corridor offered stunning views out onto planet Earth, suspended below in the inky blackness of space. It was an arresting sight even for Timothy, who had seen it thousands of times now, so it was no surprise that the team kept stopping and staring through the window with shock and awe on their faces.

Harriet, bringing up the rear of the group, almost bumped into them every time they froze. One scowl from her was enough to get them moving again. Timothy had seen this reaction before from just about everyone who met Harriet. There was a darkness about the woman that was hard to explain; an instant sense that it would be a bad idea to anger her.

Arriving in Kinoan's office, the team seemed relieved to sink down onto the soft couches placed either side of a thick brown rug. The room was decorated in a style typical to Kinoan's home planet, Joscial Ax, but it wasn't far removed from a rather old-fashioned Earth main room. A fire was already lit in the hearth, crackling pleasantly and giving the space a homely feel.

Kinoan sat down behind his desk with Harriet standing just behind him, leaving Timothy alone on the rug between the two couches to finally face questions from his team.

Timothy cleared his throat. "Welcome to the Luna Orbiter."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N - This was originally all one chapter but it was a little bit too long so I've split it up for ease of reading.**

**I do not own anything NCIS.**

* * *

"What is this place?" Gibbs was the fist to speak, not that Timothy had expected anything different. His usually unshakable boss was clearly just as lost as the rest of his team, though he hid it better.

"The Luna Orbiter is Earth's primary defence satellite and the control center for all Stars activity." Timothy could feel himself slipping into the standard spiel and didn't like it. His team had not asked to be here and they deserved a proper explanation. He just didn't know how to give it.

Timothy sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "As you've probably gathered by now, we are not alone in this universe."

All eyes in the room flickered back to Kinoan, who smiled serenely.

"Many civilizations are much more advanced than our own. With that advancement comes the ability to travel between the stars, to communicate with other peoples and planets. Of course, along with this comes fighting. There is always war." Timothy couldn't keep a hint of bitterness from his voice at this point. He hated that even the most advanced civilizations in the galaxy could not seem to stop fighting with their neighbours.

"The Unified Interstellar Peace Force was created to limit the consequences of interplanetary war. Stars is the human branch of the force. We do not get involved in the affairs of individual planets - we only interfere if the fighting becomes a threat to other systems. In return for our soldiers, we get access to technology far ahead of anything we have developed ourselves and the resources we need to protect our planet from outside attack."

The team listened in stunned silence as Timothy explained a little more about the station, about Stars and about his own participation in the force. If he had been telling this story back on Earth they would never have believed him. In fact, they would probably have thought he'd gone insane. It was hard to deny the truth of it up here, though, with that view of Earth from above still spinning in their mind's eye and an eight-foot-tall alien scrutinizing them.

"Why are we here, though?" Ziva asked. For a moment Timothy was surprised at how well she was taking it. Then, he remembered her words from onboard the Chimera and how open she had always been to the existence of things outside her own experience.

"I don't know." Timothy admitted. "Less than twenty minutes ago, this station was under attack from an enemy we can't seem to identify. Then, after we managed to deflect their missile, a teleportation beam was activated. Again, we don't know where from. Our technicians managed to divert it and ... well ..."

The team glanced at each other. Timothy hated not knowing who was behind these bizarre happenings. It left him feeling very vulnerable.

"War is coming," Kinoan said, getting to his feet and sweeping out from around his desk. He moved gracefully, despite his height. The team looked slightly alarmed as he came to a stop in front of them, three yellow eyes moving independently from each other to stare at each of them in turn.

Timothy almost wanted to laugh. He had never seen anyone look at Kinoan with fear before. He wanted to shake them, or slap them across the head Gibbs-style, and tell them Kinoan was the last person onboard this station they needed to be wary of.

"In fact, I might say war is already here. The attack my good friend here," he nodded to Timothy, eyes twinkling slightly. Kinoan was enjoying this. "Mentioned was almost enough to cripple us. That the teleportation beam got through our defences is worrying and the fact it targeted you six is even more so."

"What war?" Gibbs demanded.

"The oldest war." Kinoan's cryptic answer made Gibbs scowl but the alien just smiled in response and went on. "A war we have been waiting on for far longer than even I remember. A battle which will encompass not just our galaxy but the galaxies beyond and which will tear our universe apart. The war which signals the end of all things."

Timothy hadn't heard the full prediction in many years but it still sent chills down his spine. Nobody could agree whether it was fantasy or prophecy, although the events of the past day or so left no doubt in Timothy's mind.

"No need for dramatics, General." Timothy said dryly. Kinoan had a mischievous streak that only Timothy really knew about; the old alien found a lot of fun in winding up new recruits, who tended to take every word he said very seriously. From the looks on their faces, the team were too.

"There's no need for you to worry." Timothy told them. "We'll get you back to Earth in a few minutes and you can try to forget about this."

"Back to Earth?" Gibbs frowned. "I'm not going back, McGee."

"Of course you are."

"I am not either." Ziva echoed. Staring around at his team, Timothy saw them all - even Abby and Palmer, who had no experience of the brutality of war - shaking their heads.

"Don't be ridiculous." He said. There was a force behind his words he recognised from the battlefield. "You are civilians. This isn't your fight."

"You can't expect us to go back now," Tony spoke for the first time, his voice steady. "Not when we've seen all this."

Timothy could have kicked himself. Of course. He should have expected this. This was the reaction of every human to have even the slightest experience with Stars. He knew first-hand how hard it was to go back to Earth and live a civilian's life, all the while knowing what was going on above your head and how much danger the whole planet was in. It could be done, though.

The enemy could attack again at any time. Timothy didn't want to waste any more of it arguing with them; keeping his family safe was his top priority and there was no way he could do that for as long as they were onboard the Orbiter. On Earth, they were protected by the entire UIPF and everything it could bring to bear. Up here, they were on their own.

"There will be no arguments about this." Timothy said, his voice cold and flat. The tone of a General giving an order that could not be disobeyed. He took pleasure in the surprised expressions of his team, who had never even suspected he was capable of the kind of power and authority behind those words. From the corner of his eye, he saw Harriet stand a little straighter as if his words were a call to arms.

"I am the General here and I give the orders. You will be returned to Earth whether you wish to go or not. I will not have you onboard my station."

There were a few general protestations from Gibbs, Ziva and Tony but these were quickly silenced by Timothy's glare. His reputation was not all legend and exaggeration - a lot of it was justified. He hadn't gotten to this position by being nice.

"No." Kinoan's voice broke the silence that had fallen as Timothy headed for the door. "They will stay here."

Timothy turned to stare at his friend, astonished and angry. It felt a bit like a betrayal.

"I will not allow that, General Kinoan."

"You do not need to. I am, as you say, a General and I have as much authority on this station as you do. These six will not be returned to Earth."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N - Sorry for the unreasonably long wait! I have a very large family who all go insane at Christmas time so I've been very busy. Hopefully I can start updating regularly again now, though.**

**Hope everyone had a great holiday and all the best for the New Year!**

* * *

_Scenario completed. Success rate: 97%. Combat Simulator disengaging._

Sweating heavily and with adrenaline still pumping through his veins, Timothy stepped out of the large white dome and was not at all surprised to find himself face-to-face with Kinoan.

He had stormed from the alien's office shortly after Kinoan made his declaration, knowing he was unable to countermand the order and far too angry to make a coherent argument. Finding no release in pacing the corridors, he headed to the Exercise Deck to vent his frustration in the Combat Simulators (Mark 2).

These were remarkable machines that had only just been introduced during his basic training and were now installed onboard all sizable defence stations. They were mostly used, here on the Luna Orbiter, by soldiers recovering from injuries or those who were not in a combat unit at the moment but wanted to stay prepared.

Simulators of this type were not uncommon, but the Mark 2s were very advanced and very effective. The machines recorded the performance of every user on one 'network' and used the data to provide each individual with a full unit which behaved a lot more sentiently than a pure computer programme could. The settings were automatically tailored to rank and role and got progressively harder as the user gained more experience. This provided scenarios which were a lot more realistic than any other model could achieve.

It was the closest you could get to actually being in battle and the adrenaline coursing through Timothy's body was very, very real.

"You'll have no trouble assimilating to combat again." Kinoan said as Timothy stopped in front of him, scowling again. He had watched the last few minutes of Timothy's session on the small screen on the door of the simulator.

"They're good," Timothy said gruffly. "But nothing like actually being on the front."

"Still, 97% is remarkable."

"What do you want?" Timothy demanded.

"To talk." Kinoan said levelly. His calmness infuriated Timothy even further. "Somewhere we will not be interrupted."

Without waiting for Timothy to speak, Kinoan pushed open the door of one of the Review rooms and stood back to allow Timothy in. He hesitated for a moment, not at all sure he wanted to speak to man. A small, niggling voice in the back of Timothy's head was already sternly informing him he had acted like a ... well, like Harriet, and he didn't want that voice proven right.

But Kinoan was, after all was said and done, Timothy's closest friend and he had never done him wrong before. He was older and wiser and if Timothy was not willing to learn from such a man, he would never be the General everyone already thought he was.

He stepped through the door and sank onto one of the hard-backed chairs. It was an enclosed space with just enough room for two people and a computer. Training soldiers and their commanders used these booths to watch recordings of the Simulator sessions and discuss them.

Kinoan took a seat.

"You are protective of your friends, I understand that." He began, but Timothy cut him off.

"They're my family, Kinoan, more than just co-workers." Timothy sighed. He felt tired. "They're civilians and it's my job to protect them."

"No." Kinoan's firm, no-nonsense tone was very familiar to Timothy. "Your job is, first and foremost, to protect Earth and this galaxy as a whole. As hard as it may be to hear, the individuals do not matter. They cannot."

"It's not that simple." Timothy bit out. He understood the concept Kinoan was trying to get across very well, but he didn't like it. It was remarkable how something he had always seen as cut-and-dry - protection of the whole over the few - now seemed an impossible situation. He had never been this emotionally invested before and the hard kernel from which he drew the strength he needed in combat cursed him for that weakness.

"I know it's not. Caring is not a weakness, Timothy, and you should not be ashamed of it." Kinoan said abruptly, giving him a knowing look.

"Can you read minds or something?" Timothy exclaimed, only half-irritated.

Kinoan smiled slightly. "It takes strength to allow yourself to care again, once you know what danger there is. I was very glad to find you had friends."

Timothy said nothing, instead burying his face in his hands to avoid looking at the man. Kinoan continued.

"If you send your friends back to Earth they will be in danger and they will put the whole planet in danger as well."

Timothy looked up quickly. The twist in his gut told him he had been waiting for this pronouncement. This was the thought he had been trying not to let himself think.

"Our enemy may attempt to capture them again in a far more destructive way. We can protect them on the Orbiter far better than if they were on Earth."

Timothy couldn't deny the truth of this, however much he wanted to. For as long as they did not know why their enemy had targeted the team, or who their enemy was, sending his friends back to Earth would be foolish. He had known this from the moment they appeared on the floor of the Command Room but had searched desperately for a way out of it.

Timothy knew his team very well; far better than they knew him. He knew that they would not be content to watch, sidelined, while war waged around them and he threw himself into the path of danger.

"They won't be happy just staying onboard the Orbiter, Kinoan." He said heavily. "They will want to fight but they cannot be allowed ... this is too far out of their experiences. None of them are prepared for all of this!"

Timothy's expansive gesture was somewhat ineffective, encompassing as it did a small and slightly shabby room whose only nod to its location was the computer, which didn't look too far in advance of standard Earth tech.

"Tell me about them," Kinoan said, sitting back in his chair and relaxing slightly now that he knew Timothy had come around. "Perhaps we can find jobs for them that will be useful but not put them in danger. As Harriet might say, you will not perform to the best of your abilities if you are distracted."

"Ducky and Palmer could probably go to the Hospital Deck." Timothy said thoughtfully after a few minutes. Kinoan was right; if he could find positions for the team onboard the Orbiter, they would be as safe as it was possible to be. "But they're medical examiners, more used to doing autopsies."

"The Medical Desk performs autopsies."

"It does?" Timothy frowned, surprised.

"Not often, but it happens every now and again and I am sure Doctor Gorcheva would be happy to have a full-time medical examiner. She is always after more equipment and more personnel." Kinoan smiled again, wider this time, at Timothy's surprise. "It is my job to know the inner workings of this ship and your job to make sure autopsies remain infrequent."

Timothy nodded. He had never had time, or reason, to find out everything about the other branches of Stars. "I'm not sure about Abby."

"The forensic scientist?"

Timothy rolled his eyes. He wasn't surprised to find Kinoan had already done the research.

"She's good with computers but I'm better and even I couldn't get to grips with the stuff in the radio room."

"No reason not to give her a try." Kinoan said, shrugging. Timothy grinned; the shrug was not part of Joscial Ax culture and was something Kinoan had picked up from Timothy somewhere during their long friendship. This went both ways - Timothy had picked up several mannerisms from the alien, especially in his manner of speaking.

"We do not know how long this conflict will last. Perhaps, given time and careful tutelage, she will become proficient enough to run a console."

"It'll keep her busy at any rate." Timothy agreed. "If I know Abby, she will love the challenge."

"Now, the other three ... Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo and Ziva David, am I correct?"

"Yes." Timothy groaned to himself. He had the sneaking suspicion that Gibbs, Tony and Ziva would not be happy to be given jobs onboard the Orbiter. They were not the kind of people who shied away from action and danger.

They were not the kind of team who would be happy to allow one of their members to go marching off to war while they stayed behind, safe but useless.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N - Again, so sorry this took so long! For some reason I had real trouble writing this chapter. But, I think I'm happy with it now, so onwards! Thanks to everyone reading!**

**Disclaimer - I do not own anything to do with NCIS.**

* * *

Kinoan raised his eyebrows slightly, an expression all the more striking with his three eyes, as Timothy groaned. "You think they will want to fight?" The alien guessed.

Timothy nodded.

"Perhaps they should be allowed to." Kinoan said after a few moments silence. Timothy's head snapped up and he stared at his friend in disbelief.

"No way."

"Timothy, if they really want to join you cannot stop them." Kinoan pointed out. This was true enough; while Timothy could allocate roles and make the final decisions about deployments, he could not dictate who could and could not sign up. "All three have experience of combat in some form."

"They are civillians and it is our duty to protect them." Timothy shot back. "Throwing them into a war they cannot possibly understand is not the protection."

"They stopped being civillians the moment they arrived on this station."

"That was hardly their choice!" Timothy jumped to his feet again and began pacing around the tiny room in frustration. "We can't force people into service because they were abducted from their homeworld."

"And we won't be." Kinoan said, as calmly as ever. "This talk is purely hypothetical. The decision to fight or not will be left to your friends themselves."

"I will not put them in danger, Kinoan, not if I can help it."

"They are already in danger." Kinoan sat forward in his seat and grabbed Timothy's arm, halting his pacing. "We face an enemy we cannot fathom. An enemy capable of almost knocking this station from its orbit and capable of penetrating our defences far enough to lift six humans from the planet. We are facing our darkest night, old friend, and nothing and no one is safe."

Timothy stared at him for a few long moments, mind desperately searching for a way out. He couldn't quite explain to himself why he was so determined to keep his team-mates as far away from this war as was possible. After all, it wasn't as if they never faced danger. Every time they left the Navy Yard they knew there was a chance one of them would not be coming back.

But they seemed so _fragile_ now, so small, almost like porcelain dolls he was afraid of breaking. The reality of galactic warfare was very far from anything they had experienced on Earth. The stakes were far higher, for one; wide-scale war impacted on the very fabric of the universe, warping the nature of space and time and soldiers were sometimes lost in the maelstrom this created. Soldiers and ships, even whole planets sometimes, dropped out of the universe during war.

It was a phenomenon no one really understood and so no one spoke of it. There were whispers, of course, old legends told to newbies in basic training to scare them senseless. Old soldiers spoke of the Void, the emptiness between stars, the reason why travel between galaxies was rarely attempted. Such vast distances could break any mind. It was little more than a fairytale though, told to explain what they couldn't understand.

"If I may offer a suggestion," Kinoan interrupted Timothy's thoughts; Timothy started slightly, brought back to reality abruptly. "If they wish to fight, sign them over to Captain Mason."

Timothy laughed slightly, involuntarily. "Harriet won't take newbies."

"Captain Mason will do whatever you tell her to." Kinoan said firmly. "You are her General and she respects that, no matter her attitude."

"Gibbs is too old to go into basic training." Timothy began, still coming up with counter arguments even as he accepted the sensibility of Kinoan's suggestion. If there was anyone who could protect his friends once they completed the four-month basic training course, it was Harriet. Her unit was usually assigned the most dangerous missions but almost always returned with full numbers.

Kinoan interrupted. "Mr Gibbs was a Marine sniper, I believe?" He barely waited for Timothy's nod before continuing. "Then we specialize him immediately, bypassing the need for training. Use the time to acclimatize him to our weapons. Snipers usually stay put for long periods of time to guard base camps, so the role is less physically demanding."

Timothy stared at his friend, lost for words. Kinoan's plan was too well thought out to be spontaneous, but this wasn't much of a surprise. Timothy had to admit to himself that, if they hadn't been discussing his friends, the plan was pretty much exactly what he would have suggested.

"Do you trust Captain Mason?" Kinoan asked quietly.

"That's not as simple as it seems." Timothy said with a sigh. Kinoan had, once again, hit the nail on the head. Everything now came down to whether or not he trusted Harriet, a woman who made him feel unexplainably ill even after all these years.

"When it comes down to it," Kinoan pressed. "In a battle, when it really matters, do you trust Captain Mason with your life?"

"Yes." Timothy said eventually. "I trust her to have my back."

* * *

The atmosphere in the office, when Timothy and Kinoan finally returned, was thick and tense. Harriet stood at the door, her hand on her weapon, glaring at the six occupants.

"The civilians," she spat the moment Timothy walked in. "Are being difficult."

"Of course they are." Timothy muttered under his breath, feeling very tired all of a sudden. He sank into a chair and looked at his team-mates warily. They were all watching him intently, only glancing at Kinoan once or twice as he silently returned to his seat behind the grand desk.

"We cannot risk returning you to Earth." Timothy announced after a moment's silence. "You were specifically targeted by our enemies and if you return to the planet there is a chance they will try again. We can protect you better onboard the Orbiter."

"We won't just sit here in this ... this ... _place_," Gibbs stared around the room for a second or so, at a loss for words. The office was fairly regular by a human's standards, which just made Kinoan stand out even more and Gibbs' eyes came to rest on the old alien. "Doing nothing if there's a war going on, McGee."

Timothy was expecting this retort but his heart still dropped a little. He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a furious Harriet.

"You will address General McGee by his full title, civilian." She hissed. Clearly something had happened between the two, both stubborn and used to being listened to, while Timothy had been absent.

Gibbs glared right back at her but made no reply.

"Harriet, sit down." Timothy said wearily. "These people are my friends. I don't expect you to do nothing, Gibbs." This last was addressed to the man Timothy was still half-tempted to call "boss".

"Ducky and Palmer," Timothy nodded at the pair. "Can work down on the Medical Deck under Doctor Gorcheva. Apparently autopsies are performed on occasion but if work is slow I'm sure you will have little difficultly in treating live patients as well."

The authority had returned to Timothy's voice; he sat a little straighter in his chair. Palmer nodded, wide-eyed, still in shock. Ducky was a lot calmer than his assistant but also nodded his agreement, though he fixed Timothy with a level, searching gaze.

Timothy looked at Abby. "We don't have a forensic science department I'm afraid, Abbs, but I think you'll enjoy working in the radio room."

Abby looked curious. "What's that?"

"The communications center. The technology is a lot more advanced than you're used to but, given time and a good teacher, I think you'll get the hang of it." Timothy tried to sound enthusiastic, though the truth was that Abby was unlikely to fully grasp the technology.

"I think Leah Chesel and Varigandi would be a wise choice for tutors." Kinoan offered. The NCIS team stared at him for several seconds longer than was necessary. Timothy couldn't suppress an eye-roll; they were going to have to get over this very quickly. Kinoan was far from the most striking alien they would encounter aboard the Orbiter, much less beyond.

"I agree." Timothy nodded. He was just glad that Abby, Palmer and Ducky were not raising any objections to his plans so far. He turned to look at Gibbs, Ziva and Tony again who wore identical expressions of determination and knew they were not going to be quite as easy to pacify.

"I'm not staying here to do some menial job, McGee." Gibbs glanced at Harriet as he spoke; she snarled but made no response. "If there's going to be a war, I want to fight."

"Me too." Ziva and Tony spoke at almost the same time.

"I guessed you'd say that." Timothy sighed, got to his feet and looked at the three of them levelly. "I don't like it but I'm willing to give you a chance. But it will be on my terms. You either do as I say or I will stick you all in the canteen until the war is over."

A few tense moments passed but Timothy's stare didn't waver and, eventually, Gibbs, Ziva and Tony nodded agreement.

"Ziva and Tony, you will enter four months of basic training and if you successfully complete the course you will be allowed to fight. Gibbs, you are too old for that route-"

Gibbs tried to interrupt. Timothy held up a hand and fixed him with a glare to rival his own. The older man fell silent again.

"You cannot enter training, but your skill as a sniper will be useful to us. You will spent those four months adapting to our advanced weaponry and the fighting techniques our sniper units use. There is no negotiation here. If you do not want to do this, then you _will _be working in the canteen."

Timothy felt an uncomfortable kind of triumph when none of the three raised any objections. They looked back at him, frowning slightly and obviously not entirely pleased but they all remained silent.

Timothy glanced across at Harriet, wondering whether to tell her now that, in four months time, she would be getting a small unit of newbies to watch over. He decided it was probably best to break that news in private.

"All right." Timothy said gruffly. "We'll start the process right now. We'll get you identification papers and then take you down to the Decks you'll be working on."

Everyone stood to leave, including Kinoan and Harriet. Timothy had just pulled the door open when Gibbs spoke.

His voice was very different now; heavy and distorted, almost robotic. He stood stock still in the center of the room, staring straight ahead with sightless eyes, glazed over and dead.

The voice and the words it spoke sent a cold shiver down Timothy's spine and a sudden jolt of fear rose from the pit of his stomach.

"The Void approaches."


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N - Again, sorry for the wait. I've got tons of Uni work at the minute and several exams next week. Thanks to everyone who's reading and/or reviewing this! It really means a lot.**

**Just wondering, something. I'm English and I'm trying hard to not put any English cultural references in that would be out of place and confusing, because this is an American show after all. Is anyone bothered about my using the English spellings of certain words or does that get annoying? I've been trying not to but it's hard to avoid.**

* * *

Timothy froze, his hand on the doorknob and the door half-open. A sickly feeling of dread rose in the pit of his stomach as he turned slowly on his heel, letting the heavy door swung shut again, to face Gibbs.

For a split second, Gibbs face was utterly blank and devoid of all life. Only his eyes registered anything. They were staring fixedly at the spot which had been the back of Timothy's head and was now his eyes, staring with an expression of intense fury and hatred. Timothy had seen that kind of hate before and his mouth went suddenly dry. It was a look usually followed by swift and terrible violence.

But the moment was over in a heartbeat. Timothy blinked once and Gibbs was back to normal, his eyes clear and displaying only confusion at the stillness of the room and the way everyone had turned to stare at him.

Glancing around, Timothy noticed that the rest of the NCIS team were looking at their boss in mild bewilderment, while Kinoan looked worried and Harriet ... Harriet look horrified. That expression, too, lasted only a second. The Captain schooled her features back to their usual stoic blankness as soon as she realised Timothy was looking at her.

"What did you say?" Timothy asked in a low voice, gaze fixed on Gibbs again. He didn't move from the door. His legs felt like they'd been soldered to the thick metal beneath the rug. If the look in Gibbs' eyes and the cold cruelty of his voice weren't enough to alarm Timothy, there was also the actual words he had spoken.

The Void. Just the name sent a shiver down Timothy's spine, though seconds later he mentally slapped himself. The Void was nothing. It was a ghost story and absolutely not true. The Void was not, _could not be_, a real thing. Even the most superstitious of recruits accepted the legends were simply metaphorical warnings about the dangers of deep space travel.

Gibbs was frowning, evidently confused. "I didn't say anything."

"Yes, you did." Timothy forced himself to move forwards, staring his old boss straight in the eyes and trying to discern any leftover trace of that terrible hatred. He still felt sick and shaky but a glance at Harriet told him he wasn't showing any of this. A small frown line still appeared between her eyes whenever he showed weakness or fear, like he was still one of her soldiers who had to be whipped into shape. Most of the time he resented that attitude but sometimes, like now, it came in handy.

"You said, 'The Void approaches.'" Timothy watched Gibbs very carefully.

"No, I didn't."

It was evident to Timothy that Gibbs had no idea what he was talking about. The agent looked around at his team for support but was met with concerned faces.

"You did, boss." Ziva said quietly. "You went all ... weird for a moment."

"We should get him to the Medical Deck." Kinoan's clear, calm voice cut through the heavy air, startling them all. Timothy nodded his agreement and wasn't at all surprised when Gibbs began to protest.

"I'm fine, I don't need-"

Timothy cut him off. "You." He said firmly, jabbing a finger towards Gibbs' chest. "Are going to the Medical Deck. No discussions."

"Why? There's nothing wrong with me." Gibbs was not at all happy about being ordering around by one of his agents. It was hard to stop thinking of Timothy, who looked so young still, as one of _his_ men who would jump to his orders immediately. Gibbs was used to being the one in charge and would not take to being in the backseat easily, especially if the person now giving the orders was, only a day or so ago, a subordinate.

Timothy moved even closer, expression hard and more than a little angry. His patience was wearing thin. He had not had the chance to stop and think, to process what was happening, since waking up in his room to attend the Generals' meeting. Every minute since then had been fraught with tension, fear and danger.

"Because I say so." Timothy said coldly, with a glare to rival Gibbs' own. "And up here, I give the orders. I am your General and you will do as I say, do you understand me?"

Gibbs said nothing, setting his jaw. Timothy didn't notice Tony open his mouth to interrupt, or Kinoan hold up an authoritative hand to silence him.

"If you have a problem following my orders, Gibbs," Timothy's voice lowered even further, became decidedly dangerous. Harriet and Kinoan exchanged slightly nervous glances; this, right here, was why Timothy had the reputation he did. "I will not hesitate to throw you in the cells."

Everything seemed frozen for a few long, fraught moments, the whole room trapped in the battle of wills between Timothy and Gibbs. Then, Gibbs gave a short, sharp nod and dropped his gaze. Timothy span around and headed back to the door, flinging it open and marching through without waiting to see if they were following.

Harriet and Kinoan herded the NCIS team out of the office after Timothy, who kept his speed up to remain several meters ahead. There was a strange mixture of triumph, dread and anxiety welling up in Timothy's chest and all of it completely separate to the fear he still felt over Gibbs' strange behaviour. Despite his words in the office, Timothy was not at all confident he would be able to throw the agent in jail. The team were like family and he held a deep affection for all of them. On top of that, he still felt a little spark of deference when it came to Gibbs.

When Timothy made the decision to take a break and return to Earth, the Stars officials - shadowy and secretive as they were - could easily have pulled strings and found him a high-ranking position anywhere he cared to go. That wasn't what Timothy wanted, though, and definitely not what he _needed_. He had needed to not be in charge for a while. Playing the subordinate, the lowest on the team, had been a welcome break from the pressure of authority.

Timothy knew he made a good leader. Hell, he made a _great _leader. But even the greatest leaders can know too much power and can fall into the same traps as everyone else. A moment of weakness could cost lives.

The trip to the Medical Deck was conducted in silence. Nobody, not even Kinoan or Harriet, felt brave enough to disturb Timothy's thoughts. The General wore a dark look that was not at all inviting. For the NCIS team, the walk offered them a chance to clear their heads and think about what had happened in Kinoan's office.

Each lost in their own thoughts, only Ducky and Palmer seemed to notice when they emerged onto the Medical Deck. This was to be their home from now until this war was over, after all. One way or another.

It looked, perhaps anti-climactically, like a regular hospital reception area. A few uncomfortable-looking chairs around a rickety table and a wooden corner desk with a potted plant to the side were the only furnishings. To the left of the desk were a set of grey double doors that led into a long, white corridor. Behind the small frosted glass windows figures moved rapidly, walking up and down and from side to side, entering and exiting any number of doors.

The brunette receptionist sat up straighter as they emerged from the lift, her eyes locking onto Timothy immediately and widening. She had eyes as brown as her hair and a pale complexion liberally sprinkled with freckles.

"Is Doctor Gorcheva in her office?" Timothy asked brusequely. The woman jumped slightly, glanced at her computer screen and shook her head.

"In the Trauma Room, General McGee." She said, tone professional despite her obvious surprise. "I think she's attending to some of the Generals who were hurt in the missile strike."

Timothy frowned. He had all but forgotten the other Generals.

"Are there any serious injuries?" He enquired. He had ordered them all off the station the moment the attack began, but it made sense that anyone injured would stay behind. Doctor Gorcheva's staff were well-respected.

"No, General. Just a few broken bones."

Broken bones weren't as serious up here as they could be down on Earth and Timothy allowed himself a small smile of relief. Though he tried to shut off most of his emotions while fighting a war, he had known many of those people for a long time and had come to care for them.

With a nod of thanks to the receptionist, Timothy led the way through the double doors.

The Trauma Room was only a minute's walk from the reception area. Another set of double doors led into a long, white space bordered on both sides by lines of curtain-surrounded beds. Groups of doctors and nurses moved from one bed to the other, talking rapidly amongst themselves as they tended to the patients. There were quite a number of casualties here, injured in the missile strikes. Thankfully, none seemed to be in a critical state.

"Doctor Gorcheva." Timothy called, sighting the Bulgarian woman bent over a clipboard half-way up the room.

She turned and, without looking up, walked towards them. Doctors and nurses, both human and alien, skittered out of her path. The ease of their movements showed that the staff were used to Gorcheva moving through them in this distracted manner.

It wasn't until she came to a stop a metre or so in front of Timothy that Gorcheva finally looked up. She quirked her eyebrow at the group but otherwise her expression remained unreadable. Timothy noticed that she decidedly did _not_ look at Harriet. The enmity between the two women was widely known but it was already become a thorn in Timothy's side.

"I need a quarantine room, immediately." Timothy said.

That got Gorcheva's interest; and, apparently, the NCIS team's. Hearing the beginning of mutterings behind him, Timothy turned around and held up a hand.

"We have no idea what's going on here." He said firmly but not unkindly. "This could just be some side-effect of the teleportation beam, or it could be something dangerous. We need to know and until we do, we can't take any chances."

Perhaps still reeling from their confrontation in Kinoan's office, Gibbs didn't protest. The rest of the team looked suddenly very worried.

"Follow me, then." Gorcheva said curtly. She set off, back towards the double doors they had entered by and away up the endless corridor.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N - **Sorry, sorry, sorry for the really long wait! I didn't mean this to take so long, I've just been swamped with exams and Uni. I will be better, I promise! Thanks to everyone who reads and/or reviews!

Disclaimer - I do not own anything to do with NCIS.

* * *

The quarantine room was a dull, clinical space which differed from an average Earth hospital's only in that it was bathed in a dim purple light. Scowling all the way but not protesting, Gibbs was chivvied into the sparsely furnished room by a masked and gloved Gorcheva and made to sit on the hospital bed. Dr Gorcheva hooked him up to a heart monitor and drew several vials of blood which, once outside the quarantine room, were passed from the prematurely wrinkled Bulgarian woman to a tall, dark young human nurse, upbeat and cheerful, who grinned at them all on his way out.

"I've sent orders to make those tests priority." Gorcheva said in her gruff, no-nonsense voice which had lost almost all of its accent.

Timothy nodded his acknowledgement and then tipped his head toward the rest of the team, who were watching Gibbs apprehensively through the observation window.

"Run the same tests on the rest of them," Timothy ordered. "They might have been exposed."

The team turned abruptly to stare at him now, alarmed. Gibbs, though he couldn't hear the conversation, was watching them with a dour expression.

"We don't have enough quarantine rooms," Gorcheva said, eyeing the group with detachment. "We should ship them to the hospital Nabultin, they have much better facilities."

"They don't leave the ship." Timothy said with a snap in his voice.

Gorcheva raised an eyebrow. "Am I allowed to ask, General, what we are dealing with here?"

"I don't know." Timothy admitted with a grimace. "Something we've never encountered before. Just run the same tests on the others and find out if that beam did anything."

Timothy had described Gibbs' outburst in Kinoan's office so Gorcheva knew what signs and symptoms she should be looking out for. "I'll do a full neurological workup on him as it's an emergent case but you'll have to get the rest of them registered before I can do anything."

Gorcheva was one of very few people who could get away with talking to Timothy in this way. She was never disrespectful, as Harriet could sometimes be, but was a lot more informal than the rest of the staff. Timothy thought it fair trade for the number of times she had saved his life.

He was just turning back to the NCIS team to explain the process of enlistment when a loud bang on the thick glass of the observation window made them all jump and spin around.

Gibbs was on his feet, one fist still flat against the glass pane, heart monitor leads unconnected. That terrible look of absolute hatred was back in his eyes, which were fixed on Timothy's face. Timothy's heart seemed to stutter and skip a beat as Gibbs drew back his fist to pound on the glass again, mouth opening to form words.

He was shouting so loudly they could all hear him, even through the glass.

"The Void is coming. The Void is coming for you." Gibbs brought his other fist up, lashing out wildly at the barrier between him and the team. His eyes were still locked onto Timothy. He seemed to be trying to break through the barrier to reach the man. "The Void is coming to destroy you, General."

"What the hell is going on?" Tony asked, sounding more than a little frightened.

"Why is he doing this?" Ziva demanded. Everyone was alternating between watching Gibbs with wide eyes and looking at Timothy for some sort of explanation.

Timothy couldn't speak. Though the entire NCIS team was looking at him for answers, Timothy could not tear his eyes away from Gibbs. The man was laughing manically now, pounding against the glass with feet and hands and never blinking as he continued to stare at Timothy.

"We need to sedate him before he harms himself." Gorcheva said, watching the agent calmly. With no personal connection to Gibbs, she was a lot less shaken than the others. She pulled out a small communicator from the pocket of her coat and quickly ordered security to the quarantine bay.

Then, quite suddenly, Gibbs froze. Blinking, dazed, he dropped his arms and stepped back from the glass, staring at them all with eyes now filled with confusion and a little fear instead of utter loathing. The strange turn was over as suddenly as it began only, this time, Gibbs seemed to have been a little aware of what had happened.

"Boss?" Ziva said uncertainly. "Are you okay now?"

Gibbs frowned; he could not hear them through the glass. He sat down heavily on the bed, as if suddenly dizzy, and put his head in his hands. Gorcheva, seeing this, pulled on gloves and mask and made to re-enter the room.

Harriet flung an arm out to stop her and Gorcheva turned, furious, to face the woman. The look on Harriet's face, however, was far from the usual contempt with which she surveyed the doctor. Harriet was pale and very worried.

"Don't go in alone," she said quietly. "If he ... gets like that again he could hurt you."

"Gibbs wouldn't hurt her!" Abby said instantly. It was the first input she'd made to the discussions and her voice was trembling slightly. Ducky put a comforting hand on her arm.

"No, my, dear, Gibbs wouldn't." The old medical examiner said, sagely. "But what we just witnessed was _not_ our Jethro Gibbs."

"I'll wait for security." Gorcheva mumbled, shooting Harriet a very odd look. Harriet stepped away from her, frowning deeply.

"General McGee, what do you suggest?" Harriet turned to Timothy. Her question seemed borne more of a desire to move past that moment with Gorcheva. Timothy jumped slightly, having not really been paying attention to the conversation.

"There's nothing we can do until we get those test results back." He said with a valiant attempt at calmness, which seemed to convince everyone but Kinoan. The alien watched him with a slightly troubled look in his ancient yellow eyes.

"Kinoan, can you take them down to admin? I'd like to discuss something with Doctor Gorcheva. I'll catch up."

Kinoan nodded, not asking for further explanation and gestured for the NCIS team to follow him. Shooting each other and Timothy slightly uneasy looks, they trailed after the diplomat. Their sudden and unexplainable arrival on the Orbiter had shifted the order of things and thrown their world so out of kilter that they were willing to go along with almost any order Timothy gave them. Despite how radically different the man was up here, he was still their team-mate and they trusted him.

Harriet hung back slightly, looking between Timothy and Gibbs. Both men were making a brave attempt at composure but it was clear that both of them were worried and confused.

"Take at least two soldiers in with you," Harriet said to Gorcheva, turning to leave at Timothy's gesture. Her voice was a lot less strident than it normally was and without any of the hostility she usually displayed to the doctor. "We don't know what he's capable of in that state."

Gorcheva nodded, flashing the Captain a slight smile before Harriet disappeared. If he hadn't been so distracted by Gibbs, perched on the edge of his bed and watching Timothy closely, Timothy would have been intrigued. The two women had weathered situations far worse than this one without losing any of their mutual dislike.

Timothy turned so that his back was to Gibbs and spoke in a low voice. "If he gets like that again, sedate him and get him in restraints."

There was an edge of guilt colouring Timothy's voice as he said this. It felt very wrong to be treating his one-time boss and, indeed, friend this way but it was for Gibbs' safety that Timothy made the order. The quarantine rooms weren't secure. Those in them were usually too ill to make their escape a worry. If Gibbs had another strange turn and got out, was free to wander the Orbiter ... with that look in his eyes, Timothy didn't dare guess what he might do.

"I was planning on it." Gorcheva said grimly. She looked at him, searchingly. "But I won't tell him you ordered it, if you wish."

As the sound of footsteps told them that the security soldiers were approaching, Timothy gave Gorcheva a grateful smile and left through the same door as his team.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N** - I'm really trying to do better with the timings, I swear! Thanks so much to everyone who reads this, and thanks for all the reviews - any advice you have is greatly appreciated as this is my first fanfic and I do get a bit lost!

Disclaimer - I do not own anything NCIS. The Stars universe is, however, my own. It is inspired by Doctor Who and various other sci-fi shows but I take nothing from them except that inspiration.

Also, anything medical and anything about war and battle is just stuff I make up. I'm no expert.

* * *

The next few days were a blur of exhausting and pointless activity, leaving everyone onboard the Orbiter drained but no closer to an answer. Timothy slept when he could but only for a few hours at a time, not because he wasn't tired but because of the turmoil in his head. A million questions without answers span in his mind, making sleep all but impossible as he searched every bit of knowledge he'd accumulated over his many years of fighting - more than sixty, in total, though most of those 'lost years' were not ones he cared to look back on - for some small clue into what they were facing.

His head ached all day as a result, making him snappish and irritable. His temper served to increase the general atmosphere of fearful respect that followed him through the corridors; people were wary, afraid to anger him further, and worked even harder if he was whispered to be near. It wasn't all-out fear, exactly, and certainly not the kind that engenders ill feeling or mutiny. Everyone was all too aware that they were not providing any answers in this time of crisis.

In truth, the Orbiter had all but forgotten what it was like to have a military general stalking the corridors, for Kinoan had ruled alone these ten years of peace. Timothy's reappearance was a rather sudden injection of severity and discipline back into daily order and the Orbiter worked all the better for it.

Despite everything, though, there were still no _answers_. The tech teams in both the Control and the Radio rooms had failed to trace the origin of the teleportation beam. They were no closer to identifying the missiles, either. It wasn't spoken of but there was an uncomfortable undercurrent of tension onboard the Orbiter; every solider and every staff member felt strangely vulnerable. It was an unfamiliar sensation, here on a station that was more home than command centre.

There was, however, a spark of hope in what seemed an impossible situation. Gibbs' test results had come back and, like Timothy and Gorcheva had expected, the blood work and scans were clean. Of course, that left them no nearer an answer and Timothy readily agreed to Gorcheva's suggestion of monitoring Gibbs' neurological activity over a period of several hours.

This final test proved illuminating. The neurologist - a short, balding, dark man from Scotland who was, Gorcheva assured Timothy, renowned in his field - identified a pattern of strange 'bursts' of activity, short-lived and always in areas that shouldn't be registering such levels. Gibbs had another 'episode' the day after he was quarantined, while Timothy was prowling the Control Room and thoroughly spooking the staff there, which coincided with an even more bizarre pattern of brain activity.

Mere moments after returning to his normal self, Gibbs fell unconscious abruptly and could not be woken. Timothy and the rest of the NCIS team had spent the next three hours pacing the corridor outside his room, badgering Gorcheva until she snapped and told Timothy, in no uncertain terms, to shut up and let her do her job or leave.

He hadn't argued and hadn't gotten angry, though he would not normally tolerate that level of familiarity even from Gorcheva.

Then, just as suddenly as he had fallen into it, Gibbs awoke from his coma. His brain activity had returned to normal and stayed that way.

None of the rest of the team displayed irregular neurological activity, when they too were testing, but the worry remained. At some point, however, worry had to give way to practicality and life had to go on. Things couldn't freeze because Timothy was anxious about a small group of people, no matter how close he was to them. He was a General, first and foremost.

Gibbs was released from quarantine but all plans to put him into service were abandoned, despite the agent's insistence that he was fine. Timothy couldn't be his babysitter, though. It was Harriet who suggested asking Captain Cleve to show him around. With no further missiles incoming but the threat still heavy in the air, the Captain's unit was on standby. Cleve, a Marine himself before Stars came headhunting, seemed perfectly happy to take the agent on. It wasn't the ideal solution, though, and the relationship between Timothy and Gibbs was becoming strained. Gibbs thought he could do more and did not like being told no.

Ducky, Palmer and Abby were sent to their respective stations on the second day after Gibbs' quarantine. The two medical examiners found themselves thrown straight into action when the crew from a starship wreck was brought in, in critical condition all. They did little but watch the high-speed efficiency of the emergency response team but it was an educational experience, to say the least. Fortunately, their particular service was not needed.

Abby's introduction to the radio room was less dramatic but no less overwhelming. The forensic scientist was good with computers but, like Timothy before her, she had no concept of the technology Stars used. Leah and Varigandi were more than happy to have a 'student', though, and Abby seemed happy enough when Timothy came in to check on her.

He'd sworn he wouldn't be babysitting them anymore, but found he couldn't quite help himself.

Ziva and Tony were due to start basic training, shipping out to Horrovanda the day after Gibbs was released from quarantine. If they were annoyed that their boss would not be joining them, they were hiding it better than the man himself. A strange kind of acceptance had settled over the pair; they had made their choice freely and wanted to do this, no matter how intimidating the prospect of combat training on an alien planet seemed.

Timothy was no less worried about sending them off, but was at least secure in the knowledge that no one ever died in basic training. The Peace Force had had millennia to perfect its training programmes. Tony and Ziva would emerge, in four months time, as ready to battle the unbeatable as any new recruit - as ready as Timothy had been, jumping straight from training to all-out warfare.

Timothy was afraid for his team but most of the frustration - the root of his foul temper - came from the tech team's inability to trace the teleportation beam that had brought the team to the Orbiter. It did not seem to have emanated from anywhere in particular, which made Timothy more certain than ever that the point had been to get them on board to station rather than outright abduction. It was not a comforting idea.

Another worry was Harriet. She had disappeared, which wasn't particularly unusual and wouldn't be a cause for concern on any other occasion. Harriet came and went and she pleased and no force or authority in the Peace Force could stop her; nor wanted to. But she had been acting strangely since the NCIS team arrived; since Gibbs' had his first 'episode'. Harriet's behaviour had always been _strange_, Timothy thought to himself, but something had changed recently and it set off alarm bells in his head. He would talk to her when she returned, as she would. He could not afford to have his best soldier, his best warrior, following her own lead in this.

Timothy had his pride, yes, but he was not above admitting that to have any chance of winning this thing, he needed both Harriet and Kinoan. The three of them had fought and won many hard battles, leading the Peace Force to victory even when it seemed impossible. They may not know what they were facing now but Timothy still felt sure they could defeat their enemy if the Peace Force pulled together.

* * *

Everything was running peacefully. Ziva and Tony departed for basic training an hour ago and now Timothy lay on his bunk, staring obliviously up at the ceiling, not even attempting to sleep as Kinoan had urged him. There was a tightness in his stomach, a leaden feeling that would not let him rest. Perhaps he had been fighting for too long, perhaps he had _lived _too long; this felt like something approaching.

He already had his weapon out when Harriet burst through the door.

Always Harriet, the bringer of bloody war. There were worlds out there whose legends spoke of her as the harbinger of death.

"Isgul is attacked." This time there was no note of panic or fear in the Captain's voice. There was fire and determination, a rage all her own. This was Harriet preparing for war; a war she could actually fight.

"Facing?" Timothy barked, slipping off the bed and following her in the direction of the hangars. They had fought side-by-side for so long they had developed a kind of shorthand and needed few words.

"No idea. Ships, idle; foot soldiers not so."

"Us?"

"Elite unit heads up, plus you. Infantry back-up if needed."

The blood thumped in Timothy's brain, adrenaline swirling. It felt ... familiar. Good. Ships and soldiers - that was something they could fight. Timothy knew ships and soldiers. Knew the field of battle, knew _war_.

It was starting.

And maybe, just maybe, they could stop it before it got too out of hand. Maybe they could prevent the grand prediction.

_A battle which will encompass not just our galaxy but the galaxies beyond and which will tear our universe apart. This is the end of all things._


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N** - Thought two chapters was a nice way to make up for me being terrible with updates!

Again, I own nothing NCIS. And, again, I'm making up everything to do with war and fighting.

* * *

Isgul was a busy, industrial planet famous for its arms production. The standard Stars-issue weapons were crafted on Isgul, both the high-energy laser firers and the more traditional metal-bullet-based guns. Not exactly a tourist destination but a well-known and respected planet, which contributed a great deal to the Peace Force. It was an oxymoron of a place, with quaint little villages nestling alongside great smoke-belching factories, cities densely packed at the centre and rippling out to become quieter and more sedentary on the outskirts.

It was these outlying villages and towns to which Timothy, Harriet and her unit were transported. The Elite unit was comprised of four other soldiers, three human and one alien, the very best warriors Stars had to offer. These people had marched into the worst situations both wartime and peacetime could hurl up, and marched back out the other side as the victors. As one of Timothy's old teammates had noted; "Hell is our day job."

Timothy had not met these four before - his own unit were long since dead - but made an effort to talk to them on the journey to Isgul. He would no doubt be spending a lot of time with them. When General McGee entered the battle, Harriet always marched at his side and her unit ever accompanied her.

Lisa Mican and Alice Springborn were the most senior - the longest serving - of the Elite unit. Lisa was an exuberant, dark-skinned woman who at first seemed very far removed from the Elite standard mold. Her hair was tied back in a long braid and her brown eyes glinted with laughter as she whispered with Alice.

Alice was more conventional, in that her red hair was cut brutally short and her manner was sombre. Her skin was very pale, almost unhealthy, though she was muscular and fit. She seemed serious and focused, the epitome of 'warrior', but Timothy caught the amusement in her deep blue eyes as Lisa chatted away in her ear.

"Nuisances, the pair of them," Harriet muttered under her breath as she took a seat next to Timothy in the cramped shuttle. He could tell she was fond of them, though - at least, as fond of people as Harriet could get. If she didn't respect their ability, and couldn't tolerate them as people, they would not be in her unit. "They never stop talking."

The shuttle the six of them rode in was too small to accommodate them all, but it was very quick and would get them to Isgul before the invading forces could do too much damage. Hopefully.

The third member of the team was a quiet young man by the name of Joseph Peterbrock, with dishwater blonde hair cut as short as Alice's and bright green eyes that seemed to notice everything. He didn't speak much, except to mutter a few words now and then to the only alien onboard.

Mo'il was from a planet called Vexdra, a species known more for their intellect than for their fighting prowess. His inclusion in the Elite squad served to show there were exceptions to the rule in every species. What set him apart from his human teammates were the large pair of wings tucked neatly against his spine and the clawed talons tipping his bare feet. Mo'il greeted Timothy in flawless English even without the use of the translation chip every Stars soldier was issued.

Lisa and Alice's quiet conversation was the only noise during the five-minute journey to Isgul.

The outlying villages of Isgul had already fallen victim to the attacking army. Many homes were aflame, pointlessly destroyed, as Isgul did not have a dedicated army of its own to protect these small places. The Isgul forces would abandon their towns, villages and cities to the protection of the Peace Force, in order to concentrate on fortifying their factories and production centres.

Apart from the mad crackling of the flames, the area was eerily silent as Timothy and the unit landed.

"Civilians?" Timothy inquired as the six began to move into the first village, slowly and cautiously, inspecting every possible hiding place.

"Fled, from what I can tell." Harriet answered. "No evacuation order was made but this area is abandoned and there's no sign of casualties."

"Secure." Lisa reported, jogging back from a small, one-story home that had escaped the fires. There was no trace of laughter in her voice now.

"I don't think there's anyone here any more." Joseph said, voice low.

"Move inwards?" Mo'il suggested.

Harriet held up her hand. "There's something not right here."

"We're being watched." Alice said, tightly, staring around at the surrounding houses. "I can feel it."

Timothy believed her; he felt it too.

The six spread out a little way, forming a circle so they had a line of sight on all approaches. No words were said as they maneuvered into place; this was the well-oiled operation of a unit who had done this more times than they could count.

For a few heartbeats, there was dead silence.

Then, a gunshot. Timothy moved immediately, instinctively swinging around so his weapon faced the direction of the shot. A breath later, a green laser bolt shot past his shoulder and impacted against a stone wall inches from Alice's head. The woman showed no reaction to the near miss.

In seconds, the battle was raging.

A bewildering combination of high-energy laser beams of varying colours and ordinary metal bullets flew about, forcing the unit to duck and dive and scramble under the onslaught, firing back blindly. Their enemy was advancing on them and they were outnumbered at least ten to one.

Warfare in the Peace Force was nothing like that on modern Earth. Battles were not fought, as Timothy had first imagined, in the depths of space. There were no starship dog fights of the kind sci-fi movies are so fond of and no great motherships hovering over a doomed planet, releasing death-rays and all but impregnable to outside attack.

Battles were fought on the surface of planets which had done nothing to deserve this level of death and destruction. The hostile enemy invaded, the Peace Force retaliated. It was war fought on foot, fought by hand, numbers against numbers, seeing the whites of your enemy's eyes as you killed each other.

Fighting off-planet was simply too risky. The energy released from war-machines battling it out in the depths of space caused terrible things to happen; the fabric of the universe became stretched, torn and warped. Time broke down in places or else stopped all together. Creatures were born from the destruction and hate - terrible creatures, interested only in annihilating all that came into their path. Creatures without names, the fuel of nightmares for billions.

No matter how many lives on-planet fighting cost, it was preferable to risking the destruction of the universe.

Timothy couldn't identify the species of the three aliens bearing down on him, far too busy with his gun to notice what they looked like. For every one that fell, another appeared to take its place.

They had not been expecting this number of hostiles. The unit had been forced backwards, pinned in one space with little room to maneuver and little cover. Any other unit would have been dead by now, but the Elites fought on.

Timothy fired steadily, and the three approaching aliens fell. Before he had time to register this, to notice that the dead had left a space he could use to break out of the circle and perhaps gain an advantage, Timothy's world lurched and he hit the ground hard.

Harriet had body-checked him to the floor and was even now on her back, half-sitting, firing a volley of laser beams at two more hostiles who had been about to ambush Timothy from behind.

"They're human." Harriet spat out as she clambered to her feet, pulling Timothy up with her.

Back-to-back now, aware of their vulnerability in this open ground, Timothy managed to ask; "What?"

"Some of the hostiles are human!"

In the next second, Timothy noticed she was right. He hadn't paid any attention, before, to just who he was fighting. There were too many laser beams and too many bullets flying about for that and any spare thought he had was focused on calling for infantry back up.

Among the hostiles were a small number of humans, male and female, a wide variety of ages. Now he was paying attention, Timothy realised there were a large number of different species here. All wore different uniforms, all carried different weapons - some were even armed solely with blades. There seemed to be no cohesion in the group and, were they not attacking Timothy, Harriet and her unit as one, he would have thought they weren't on the same side at all.

The only thing 'uniform' about them was, Timothy noticed with a horrible feeling in his gut as one alien with a long sword came in too close for comfort, the look in their eyes. It was the same depth of loathing, of utter fury, as Gibbs had worn back on the Orbiter.

But there was something else there, as well: a strange kind of emptiness, behind the hatred. The soldiers moved skillfully but uniformly, as if they were simply reciting a long-practiced group routine.

Timothy knew mind control when he saw it. Perhaps in any other situation he would have been hesitant about cutting down people so obviously in the grip of a controlling force but now was not the time for morality and ethics. It was kill or be killed and Timothy's duty was to end this invasion.

"When is the damned infantry getting here?" Harriet spat, cursing as a red laser beam hit the barrel of her gun and caused it to burst into flames. She dropped the weapon instantly but her hand was already badly burnt. Without missing a beat, Harriet grabbed the sword from the alien Timothy had felled, wielding it in her left hand with as much ferocity as her right.

"We need to retreat." Timothy said firmly, seeing Lisa firing desperately at a large group of hostiles while supporting half of Alice's weight. The woman had hurt her leg, somehow; there was a lot of blood. "We don't have the numbers for this."

"Pull out! Pull out!" Harriet barked into her radio, grimacing but accepting defeat. She followed Timothy, walking backwards as he guided her forwards, towards Lisa and Alice and took Alice's weight on herself.

"You alright?" Timothy asked Lisa as they struggled away from the horde, towards the field where their transportation waited.

Lisa didn't answer. She shot down four hostiles instead and Timothy took this as her answer.

"Thank god." She muttered as the low drone of engines signalled that back up had finally arrived.

Harriet passed Alice's weight back to Lisa as Joseph and Mo'il pulled themselves from the fight. One of Mo'il's wings was bleeding heavily and Joseph's left arm sported a deep gash.

"Go ahead, get into the shuttle. As soon as you're in, get the pilot to pull up. We'll cover you."

The four didn't look happy but followed Harriet's order. As the two senior soldiers, Harriet and Timothy both considered it their duty to stay behind to ensure their injured teammates reached safety.

There was no time to talk as the pair slowly backed up; the hostiles oddly focused on them despite the infantry troops landing with their weapons already ablaze.

The shuttle began to take off, as the incoming fire was too heavy and might at any moment hit the craft. At the last second, Timothy dived through the still-open door and hauled Harriet in after him, Lisa and Mo'il anchoring him by the waist to support her weight.

They sprawled on the floor, gasping for breath. Timothy's left arm hurt badly. A laser beam had grazed it and the burn was still spreading through his muscles. There was a second laser burn on his right leg, and several smaller cuts on every limb.

"You alright, Harriet?" Timothy asked quietly, after checking to see the rest of the unit were fine. There were injuries, but those would heal. None of them felt much like talking. They had been confident going into this but, just half an hour after landing, were sent scurrying away. It was hard to stomach but a unit that couldn't accept defeat was a unit that wouldn't survive long. Sometimes skill and tactics won the day against insurmountable odds; sometimes there was no substitute for numbers.

"I knew him." Harriet frowned, looking up at Timothy with bewilderment in her eyes. At Timothy's raised eyebrow, she went on. "One of the humans who attacked us. I knew him, from my very first assignment."

Timothy half-shrugged. "I don't get it either. But sometimes people ... go bad. Choose the wrong side. Though I'm fairly sure they were being controlled, somehow."

"No, you don't understand." Harriet grabbed his arm and pulled him closer, speaking low and urgent. "That man I saw. He's dead."

It was Timothy's turn to frown. "What?"

"He's dead. I saw him die."

Harriet's tone was completely serious but Timothy couldn't help saying; "Well, obviously not."

"No, Timothy. That man is dead." Harriet's grip on his arm grew painful but it was the use of his first name that got Timothy's attention. Though she would call him 'McGee' sometimes, Harriet had only ever used his first name in the direst of situations. She had used it on the three occasions when both she and Timothy were fairly sure he was about to die. "I killed him."

She was not lying, Timothy could tell that clear as day. "You're sure?" He had to ask.

"Of course I am." Harriet snapped. "You don't forget the first life you took."


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N** - Hello all ... I'm really sorry about the long, long wait for this chapter! I've been really ill the past few weeks. On the mend now so I'll hopefully get back to something approaching regular posts. I haven't had the energy to write but I've been planning!

Thanks to everyone who's been reading this and extra thanks if you're still with me despite the gap!

**Disclaimer** - I don't own anything to do with NCIS.

* * *

The trip back to the Orbiter took a lot longer than the journey to Isgul had. These shuttles, colloquially called Scramble Pods, were the early cousins of the highly advanced Hoppers Timothy was so fond of. They could jump a small unit from base to battlefield in minutes in an emergency situation but only had enough power for the one jump. Any return trip was done using more conventional technology - still far faster than anything Earth scientists could design but considerably slower than the Hoppers.

Every Peace Force branch across the galaxy contained the same odd mish-mash of technology from different planets and times. There was little coherence in transport; while they might have standard-issue weapons, methods of getting around were trickier. The vast distances of interstellar space confounded even the most learned of civilisations.

The journey back was conducted mostly in silence; Harriet had refused to elaborate on her assertion, that one of the human soldiers among the hostile force was in fact a man she had killed long ago. Timothy hadn't pushed her. He recognised the look of a person refusing to explain, not through rebellion, but because she couldn't.

And, of course, he remembered his first kill. As Harriet said; it wasn't something you forgot, nor was it something you wanted to discuss. Two weeks out of basic training, stationed on the quiet planet of Kara which was a common place for a first deployment, Timothy had been wandering through the twenty-foot-tall, purple-leafed trees of the forest planet after nightfall, while the rest of his unit slept.

A fascination with the flora and fauna of this new planet was what drew him out, rather than any foreboding feeling of impending doom, as some of the legends would have listeners believe. So, when he stumbled into the path of a Hotton scout sent on ahead of his unit to check for clear passage, Timothy was just as surprised as the alien himself.

He remembered vividly the look of alarm on the alien's face and how it turned first to surprise and then to nothing as Timothy reacted first, reached his weapon first, pulled the trigger first. He remembered the muffled thud as the boy - for the alien was no older than Timothy himself - hit the forest floor.

But Timothy had not had time to process this death, nor to feel guilt over it as he had over the first life he took with NCIS. _That_ had been a stark and brutal reminder that Timothy could never now be a man of peace. That he would always be of war and death, would always have blood on his hands and heart. The alien's death had allowed Timothy time to warn his unit of impending attack. If he had not pulled the trigger first, the Hotton forces would have taken Kara and the whole war might had turned out very differently.

* * *

Finally returning to the Orbiter, Timothy clambered out of the Scramble Pod to find a grim-faced Kinoan waiting for him. Harriet gave him a curt nod, indicating she would ensure the unit got proper medical attention while Timothy followed the diplomat back to his office.

To Timothy's surprise, he found Gibbs waiting for him inside.

"Tony and Ziva?" He asked as the heavy door shut behind Kinoan. Timothy slumped into an armchair opposite Gibbs, legs aching. He hadn't paid much attention to his wounds during the shuttle trip but, now he was home, they seemed to ache all the more.

"Shipped out to Horrovanda not long after you left." Gibbs told him. "Nervous but confident. What happened to you?"

"He went hightailing it off across the galaxy, into a situation he knew nothing about, that's what," Kinoan snapped. He looked equal parts angry and disappointed, in a way that made Timothy's stomach churn even more. "And now he's back here with his tail between his legs having got the whole damn Elite unit injured for no good cause."

Timothy scowled up at Kinoan but couldn't deny the truth behind his censure. They had acted rashly. _He _ had acted rashly. His anger, combined with an unfamiliar and uncomfortable sense of uncertainty and a strong desire to prove himself in battle, had caused him to be reckless.

He had not fully understood the situation and, despite all evidence warning him not to, had underestimated their opponents. The charge had been a mistake; one Timothy was determined not to repeat.

"Perhaps I'm getting a little rusty." Timothy said after several moments tense silence. "It has been ten years."

"And you spent all that time playing the underling," Kinoan said in a softer voice, though there was still a note of disapproval. Ever the diplomat, Kinoan had no desire to prolong an argument once Timothy had admitted his fault. "Not relying on your own skills."

"You know why I did that," Timothy said shortly. "Why I couldn't risk staying."

The alien opened his mouth to reply - this subject was the only one on which the two old friends consistently disagreed - but Gibbs cut him off. The agent had observed them in silence during their brief conversation but had clearly had enough of being out of the loop.

"I don't." Gibbs said. He was watching Timothy intently. "You're a General, McGee. You've got a whole space station jumping to your command. They talk like you're a hero. But you came back to Earth to work as a junior NCIS agent? I don't understand _why_."

Timothy knew he'd have to answer these questions sometime. He couldn't keep these secrets forever, not now the team were onboard the Orbiter and constantly surrounded by people who really did see him as a hero, a legend in the flesh. Sooner or later, they would hear _everything_. Ziva and Tony would probably not even get through their first night of basic training without hearing some of the most popular - and most exaggerated - fireside tales. He knew they would all, one day, come to him for answers he just didn't have.

"Power is dangerous." Timothy said abruptly. "Power corrupts. And there are few more powerful than a Stars general who has single-handedly ended a bloody and brutal war."

It wasn't much of an answer and Timothy knew it. He just didn't have the energy for this conversation, not now, when he was still reeling from the Elite unit's embarrassing defeat. Maybe it was the finality in Timothy's voice, or the dark look in his eyes, but Gibbs paused in his questioning long enough for Kinoan to jump in and steer the topic onto safer ground.

"Do we know what they wanted on Isgul?" Kinoan asked, taking a seat at his desk.

Timothy frowned. The attack had happened on a small and unimportant village on the very outskirts of one of the smallest factory towns. The planet's defences weren't exactly a closely-held secret: When under attack, residents of the outlying villages were to evacuate to the cities. There, the defences were so strong that even the terrible Hotton hordes during the last war had been unable to penetrate them.

A small squadron of foot soldiers, no matter how thoroughly and uniformly trained, could not hope to do any damage at all. The full battalion of Peace Force soldiers who attended to the outlying villages of Isgul would decimate that small band with ease. And, when it had been Timothy and the Elite unit alone facing them, the invaders had not seemed particularly interesting in moving further in on the closest city.

"I think ... I think they were just there to cause trouble." Timothy said uncertainly. "To show us what they were capable of. That their soldiers are willing to die for whatever their cause it. They made no effort to take any ground."

"A show of force?" Kinoan pressed. "Another demonstration of power?"

Timothy shook his head. "Not just that. They made a show of sending their soldiers to a slaughter. A unit of six may not have been enough to beat them but a full infantry defence will have no trouble. Those troops were sent to Isgul to die."

"A show of numbers, then." Kinoan said quietly. The brutality of an opponent who not only would send soldiers off on a mission solely to die, but who had soldiers willing to do so, was not lost on any of them. "If they can afford to send that many soldiers off to their deaths, their reserves must be vast."

Timothy got to his feet and began to pace. "Everything they have done so far has had the same purpose." He muttered, more to himself than anyone. "To ... to _show off_. This is self-aggrandising. But ... _why_?"

"To make us afraid?" Gibbs suggested. He had been following the conversation closely and clearly understood all that was being discussed.

Timothy shook his head again. "The missile strike was 'afraid'. This pointless attack on an unimportant village with a full squad? That's just ... bad tactics. It's letting us see how they fight. We can plan against them now, at least better than we could before."

Timothy stopped pacing, a troubled look on his face. The memories, of dead-eyed soldiers and Harriet's expression as she insisted that one of the Stars-uniformed soldiers had been her first kill, came rushing to the front of his swirling mind.

"The soldiers were all dressed in different uniforms." Timothy said distractedly. "Including Stars."

Kinoan and Gibbs exchanged a look, and a disconnected part of Timothy's brain had to wonder how often the two of them had spoken over the last few days, while Timothy prowled the corridors in half a rage and tried to ignore the presence of the NCIS team and while Gibbs came to terms with not being the boss any more.

"Harriet said she knew one of them. She said she killed one of them, years ago."

"What does that mean?" Kinoan's expression of confusion echoed Timothy's feelings.

"No idea," Timothy shrugged heavily. "She wouldn't say."

"Who _is_ Harriet, exactly?" Gibbs demanded. "Her rank is Captain but she walks around like she's the one in charge and you let her do whatever she wants."

"Harriet has earned special consideration." Kinoan answered. "I don't think we could contain her now, even if we were inclined to. Little is known about her and most of that is just myth."

"So, because she's a good fighter, you let her get away with anything?" Gibbs wasn't about to let this go. He had taken a dislike to Harriet and, from what Timothy had seen of their interactions, the feeling was mutual.

"Nobody likes Harriet but nobody is stupid enough to challenge her. We need her. Nobody can lead a unit like Harriet, or inspire loyalty like her. And nobody else is reckless enough to dive into time anomalies so regularly." Timothy answered.

"Except you." Kinoan pointed out. Timothy rolled his eyes.

"Time anomalies?" Gibbs frowned.

"Disturbances in the fabric of the universe. Created most often during war, from the energy bursts released during battles conducted in the space vacuum instead of on the surface of planets." Timothy explained. "It creates bubbles of time. Sometimes they're small enough to be ignored but sometimes they can encompass whole planets or systems, trapping them in a never-ending war. So someone has to go in and find a way to burst the bubble."

"People tend to be unwilling to do so. It's usually something of a suicide mission. Bursting one is difficult and often you end up being trapped for a great many years, displaced from the time stream." Kinoan elaborated. "Twenty years inside an anomaly may register only as two or three days from outside, though a soldier entering from outside ages in sync with time outside the bubble."

Gibbs looked completely lost and Timothy was half-tempted to laugh. The nature of time still eluded even the most intelligent of races; these anomalies were not understood even by those few who had experience of them.

"I believe Timothy has accompanied Harriet into several." Kinoan said lightly.

"63 years in total." Timothy grinned. There was something amusing about Gibbs' utter confusion. And would Timothy ever have thought he would be discussing the intricacies of time itself with a man who couldn't even operate his email?

A knock on the door interrupted; Harriet burst through without waiting for an invitation.

"There's a communication coming through in the Control Room," she gasped, already stepping back out into the corridor. "Source unknown but I'm willing to bet it's our enemy finally making contact."

* * *

**A/N** - Just to make things clearer ... I'm making all of this up as I go - the sci-fi stuff, I mean.

Basically, time anomalies can only be burst by someone entering, via Shifter or similar technology, from outside. That person can get trapped for many, many years from the perspective of those inside the bubble. For those outside, only a few days might have passed. And when the bubble is burst, the person who entered via Shifter will only have aged a day or so - the same amount of time as has passed outside the bubble. Those who were inside the bubble when it was created age according to how much time passes inside the bubble. Does that make _any_ sense, at all?


End file.
